Carve a Path

This morning I cleared an inside path through my husbands piano shop so I could get to the side yard. Then I cleaned up all of the bits of paper wrapping trash that had blown onto the grass from the 40 mile an hour winds yesterday. The juniper pollen is in the air.

My thoughts are full of the possibilities of a future quarantine. Yet aren't most writers in quarantine as part of the job? I am thinking of all of the people I know who are elderly and those who go on the road or teach for a living and all of my friends with asthma. At least we can cook, read, write, and walk around.