Ramadan and Social Isolation

A week of badly needed rain. It was cold enough in the house that I dug out my alpaca poncho and wore it standing at my desk.

Today the morning was sunny; I went for a walk, sat in the sun and read, and transplanted a couple of ferns from the backyard to the side of the house, where it's shady. The grass needs weed-eating again, but it's still too wet. If we get a couple of dry days, I may get it done during the week.

This is the first Ramadan that I've spent at home. Not that it matters. A cup of tea in the afternoon is no more tempting, nor any easier to provide, at home than in the office. If I find anything different, it's that it's easier to fast amid all this temporal dislocation. I'm not settled enough in my work-at-home habits to feel the need of a snack or drink at any particular time. Though I get just as hungry by the end of the day.

Ramadan has an end date. Social isolation doesn't, not yet.

Last night we got a takeout pizza from Flying Pie. I hadn't been there since Jay Lake passed. The seating is all closed down, and the lobby where the cash registers are was only half-lit.

On the way home, we nearly hit a young coyote crossing 20th near Multnomah. We've all heard about wildlife becoming more active, with less traffic and less human activity in general. I hadn't really observed it: our neighborhood is overrun with crows and squirrels, so nu? But one doesn't see coyotes in the street all that often, although they are always nearby.

Fascinating etiquette developing in my neighborhood. When pedestrians meet on the sidewalk, someone always steps into the street. Older folks, parties with strollers or small children, have priority on the sidewalk. Cars and bicycles swerve to avoid pedestrians avoiding other pedestrians. It's all like a very considerate and gentle game of pinball.

Available! High-Voltage Lines, Knocking from Inside