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A Strange Season

June 1, 2020


It is June.

Given sequestration, 3 things happen: I work 7 days a week, alone, in my office: We prepare food and eat as a family: I snap-to on the home and gardens. The list of “oughts” dwindles.

The tomato plant above is a month old. It is stunted. There is sun, there is fertilized soil, but, there is inadequate warmth. In a time where Climate Change makes seas rise because ice caps are melting, there is inadequate warmth, here, to grow tomatoes. Perhaps the coldest spring in my memory.

In a sea of technology and humanity: the 40 million humans who rotate in and about New City, spewing Needle Towers of stacked humanity (or cash) to the heavens, our congegation has abetted Plague, and our technology now separates rather than connects.

Zooms, emails, texts, await my time today. We, the quarantined, are not dead, but we are stunted. The tomatoes, while not dead, but are as affected by their environment as I am. It is coming to summer after a spring of growth and isolation.

Will it be different?


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