Two and a half months into the stay-at-home. I’ve been biking every day for a month. Today a heavy rain and strong winds meant I went out in the early evening instead of the afternoon. Twigs and wet leaves litter the ground. Yesterday a hummingbird plant was backlit in the setting sun, a burning bush of a different kind.
Turning back toward home, for once I remember the sinkhole at the intersection and sail smoothly by. The air is cool, the pavement still damp. My sweater flutters in the breeze. I pass a man walking on the opposite side of the street. He lifts his hand. I nod. Hi, neighbor.