Coronavirus

Checking In – Day 523

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One of my many vices – Photo: L. Weikel

Checking In

Rain is pattering down outside and I’m sitting here listening to it. This Friday night is cold, wet, and can be pretty fairly characterized as miserable. So I’m checking in, wondering how you’re all managing to negotiate the temptations of too much…well, too much of anything.

You name it. If you’re like me, you can over-indulge in any number of vices. Netflix, chocolate, roasted peanuts. You name it.

Yeah, I just ticked off my latest ‘big three.’

Oh my goodness. What is it with these peanuts? All of a sudden, I am absolutely held hostage by the irresistible urge to eat them mindlessly, one after another, seemingly powerless to stop. Time after time, I promise myself that this is the last handful I’m going to take from the bag – the bag I bought to feed my blue jays and fish crows, if I’m honest.

As Bad As Sheila

I’m not the only one succumbing to temptation and indulgence in this household.

Sheila has been particularly egregious in her flaunting of the social norms established in our household over the past 15 years.

No eating cat poop. That’s a pretty hard and fast rule. Well, poop of any kind, but cat poop is usually the most frequently encountered fecal fast food in Sheila and Spartacus’s pantry.

I don’t know what has gotten into Sheila lately, but she’s been veritably defiant. Honestly, I think it’s her blindness. If she can’t see us, she thinks we can’t see her? Or is it her deafness. I screetched when I caught her foursquare in the cat box this morning – and she didn’t even flinch.

Ugh. I was so angry. She knows better.

And yet she just snuffled in my general direction when I picked her up and did not exude the least bit of remorse. And she used to feel bad about being a bad girl! (Then again, so did I.)

Exiting the snack bar, oblivious to being discovered – Photo: L. Weikel

Stress Eating

All of which brings me back round again to the topic of stress eating. Man, I am struggling with this. I think the key for me is not having it around. And I wouldn’t, but for the fact that, because of this coronavirus pandemic, I do not have the luxury of running out to the store to buy stuff only when I need it.

Case in point: the peanuts I give to my blue jays, fish crows, and – albeit begrudgingly – the squirrels. Because I find myself buying a couple bags of peanuts when I go to the store, I have access to them. I can’t just fill all the feeder/dispensers. No. There’s always some left over; a bag half empty. And if I make the mistake of cracking open just one beautiful nut perfectly along its seam, exposing the precious insides, encased in their natural tissue paper wrapping, I inevitably find I am helpless to resist. I pop the delicious morsels into my mouth and am compelled to reach for the next perfect crack-and-reveal. And then the next…

Even Though I Know I Shouldn’t

So I find myself feeling some compassion for Sheila. She’s old. She can still navigate her way to the cat box and snuffle out the occasional treat. She’s been sneaking them for years – and is simply less adept at snagging them undetected anymore. Given that we close the door to the bathroom (most of the way – not entirely; the cats can’t open the door on their own) in order to deter the old coot, the mere fact that she can blindly negotiate her way into the bathroom at all is a coup that merits the reward.

I don’t know that I exhibit talent even remotely on the same par as Sheila in tracking down my peanuts. But I do know they’re probably as (not) good for me as the crusted snacks she snags for herself.

Judging from her expression, though, I’d say she clearly feels they’re worth my displeasure. Or at the very least, she feels zero remorse. UGH.

Cat litter snout – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-588)

What Day Is It – Day 522

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Tigger, annoyed by my question – Photo: L. Weikel

What Day Is It

I know I’m not alone. I know I’m not the only one who asks, “What day is it?” to whomever is nearest me – usually Spartacus or Tigger, but occasionally Karl – far more often than I should.

Sheila has two paws into the next world lately, so she’s definitely not a reliable source to ask. She usually just looks up at me with her rheumy eyes and says, “Seriously? Don’t ask me that. If you’re not going to open a can of food, just cover me with a blanket and let me go back to sleep.”

Fair enough. I can relate.

A New Rhythm

I’m finding it frustrating that I’ve yet to establish a new rhythm for myself.

If you had told me a month ago that the one reliable part of my day would be listening to Governor Cuomo’s daily briefing, I guarantee I would’ve scoffed. He’s not even governor of my state, for heaven’s sake.

But that’s my truth. Listening to him give us the facts, lead with logic, and support all of us (not just New Yorkers) with compassion and heart, has been a reliable centering post for me. I happen to be one of those people who believe that government can be, and is, when properly staffed and maintained, a force for good. So it’s a comfort to me to listen to him respect his constituents enough to tell them the truth– and then expect them to handle it.

As I go about trying to find my new rhythm I’m realizing that, at least lately, I’ve been having more trouble concentrating. Intellectually, I know this is probably a natural consequence of dealing with the stress of all the unknowns that have suddenly become part of our lives. But it feels a little lame.

A Bracing Slap

I don’t need to tell you guys how important walking is to my quality of life. If nothing else, my walks more often than not yield the photos around which I write many of my posts – which is reason enough to get me out the door.

Well, today’s walk was a startling experience. Just as we were heading out the door, my phone bleeped an alert that cautioned we should expect rain to begin in 20 minutes. It was tempting. Should we stay or should we go? We decided to initially ‘just do a stop sign,’ which effectively ruled out our longer four mile trek, but hey – it got us out of the house.

Imagine our surprise when it started snowing little spitballs at us as we rounded our first corner. Brrr! The entire walk ended up feeling like a bracing slap by Mother Earth – telling us to buck up and snap out of our somnambulism. At least, that’s what I felt like I was being told. I guess I shouldn’t speak for Karl.

Ultimately, I think it will serve me best to stop asking, “What day is it?” and just get on with living whatever damn day it is. If it takes a couple more days or weeks or whatever to fully acclimate to the transformation that’s taking place across the globe and within our lives, so be it. There is a balance to all of this if we just give ourselves the chance to find it.

Again, that’s where that patience and acceptance comes in. It’s not a lesson to be glibly ‘learned’ one day and forgotten the next. No. I’m pretty sure that’s part of that new rhythm I seek.

Oh – and you’re probably reading this on Friday. (wink)

“Really? Open a can of food and we’ll talk” – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-589)

Holding My Breath (Again) – Day 511

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Image (Facebook) – Credit Unkown

Holding My Breath (Again)

As I sit here trying to think of something to write this evening, I keep dismissing each idea that pops into my head.  Nope. Not that. Nope. Not that, either. I annoy myself as I nix each thought. Until I realize: I’m holding my breath.

Literally and figuratively.

So I write that as the working title to my post and I realize with the force of a whack upside the head that this awful freaking virus is all about our breath. It’s all about breath and breathing. Or not being able to take one or enjoy doing it anymore.

I make a point to take a deep breath – if only to notice it, relish it, be grateful for it.

Momentous Week

Why am I holding my breath? Because I, too, feel this week will bring shock and sadness to so many of us. To any and all of us who are paying attention.

And it will only be the beginning.

We thought we were witnessing the beginning recently? No. We weren’t. We were just watching the opening credits.

Now is when the rough stuff really starts unfolding, when the images we see playing out before us slam into the vision of reality that we insist on pretending we see. This is when we find out whether the center can hold – on whether our centers can hold. This is when we are faced with the consequences of our choices and the choices of others.

We’re In This Together

Because, yet again, we’re in this together. The dire predictions for New York City are probably going to start manifesting this week. But the real shock is going to come when it happens elsewhere.

Everyone expects NYC to get slammed. Many who are intimidated by the intensity and startling diversity of NYC look at NYC in smug judgment. But what about other cities that are not quite as diverse? Rural areas? Our small towns and villages where people think they’re immune to the consequences of policies enacted in Washington D. C.? Something tells me they’re in for a terrible surprise.

So…yeah. I’m holding my breath. I don’t want the dire predictions to play out. And I wish we didn’t have to live through such cataclysm in order to force us to change our ways.

But as long as we insist on thinking we’re special or it won’t happen to us we perpetuate the spread of this misery.

There is a solution. There is a lesson. It’s the realization on the most profound of levels (from the seemingly insignificant to the obviously momentous) that we’re really and truly all connected. We are all related. And we need to start acting like it, from the ground up. I’m holding my breath (again) – for all of us.

Mitakuye Oyasin.

Creek along Red Hill – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-600)

Weird Emotions – Day 503

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Photo: L. Weikel

Weird Emotions

I’m finding the enormity of what we’re seeing unfold around us sneaks up and catches me at the oddest times. I’ll be motoring along, minding my business, when suddenly DT will say or do something that shakes my faith in humanity. And then I find myself juggling a panoply of weird emotions bubbling up at the oddest moments.

While I try to keep my intake of the latest news in balance with the rest of my life, I’ll be the first to admit that on those days that I can’t get outside to take a walk, I’m a little fried by the end of the day.

It poured rain all day today. And I’m not keen on walking in wet weather, to be honest. At least not when the temperature’s hovering around 44 degrees. Yet walking plays such a huge role in keeping my emotions in balance; I find it necessary for my survival. It’s extremely rare for me to begin a walk in a pissy, disagreeable mood and arrive home in the same or worse condition. Not to say it’s not impossible; just less likely.

Star Trek

Karl and I watched the final episode of Picard tonight. It was a worthy season finale. But what surprised me most was when the familiar Star Trek music started playing at the end, my eyes welled up and a couple tears rolled down my cheeks! I found myself suddenly thinking about Karl, in whose honor I write these nightly posts as part of my 1111 devotion, and my other sons as well.

All of a sudden I felt this clench in my heart, recognizing the thread that Star Trek has woven throughout my own life: from when I was a kid myself and the first season of Star Trek aired on Philadelphia’s UHF channel 48 (the same channel that carried roller derbies) to right now, when we would gather – pre-Covid-19, mind you – with T and M to watch Picard together.

And all those years in between. Indeed, as we’ve watched Picard, Karl and I have realized that some of the spin-offs and other Star Trek series over the years were actually background noise as we were busy raising the boys. The guys might be watching, but we were either still getting home from work or making dinner or otherwise engaged in being consumed with young family-hood.

So now, mid-Covid-19, we’re going to watch all the shows. At least that’s on the agenda for now.

Mortality Is In the Air

Perhaps it’s the sense that anything could happen at any moment that’s causing my tears to be slightly on a hair trigger. I don’t know. While I can’t say I’m weepy by any stretch of the imagination, I do think I am tapping into something larger. Our shared despair at a lot of the cruelty we’re seeing, perhaps.

I think it was the hope for humanity that was ‘pinged’ in my heart when I heard the Star Trek theme tonight. I want to believe in our better nature. I want to believe that we will rise to the occasion.

(T-608)

A Tragic Blur – Day 502

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A Blur of Green – Photo: L. Weikel

A Tragic Blur

It’s becoming a tragic blur. Every day we’re hearing about more and more people losing their lives to the Coronavirus pandemic that’s exploding in our country. I’m sure this is just the tip of the iceberg, and two weeks from now (April 10th– it’s a date) we’ll wish we were only experiencing the rate of positive tests and deaths we’re reporting and lamenting today. Today’s anguish will seem ‘aspirational’ to our future selves.

If you stay off social media and refuse to turn on your tv or radio, it’s easy to both be a responsible citizen, practicing social distancing and remaining in the orbit of your home, and lose complete track of the insanity unfolding in hospitals all over the country, but especially in New York City. The nurses, doctors, respiratory therapists, and emergency personnel of all stripes who are operating in overdrive, attempting to meet the tidal wave of need that’s overcoming our cities, are operating within that tragic blur. All they see are people in fear and distress, unable to breathe, desperate for care and compassion.

No filter – Photo: L. Weikel

Guilt of Relative Ease

And here I am, ostensibly doing my best to ‘flatten the curve’ and keep our local hospitals from suffering the same fate as New York’s and becoming inundated with new Covid-19 patients. My sacrifice – if you can even call it that, which I for one honestly cannot in good conscience do – is to refrain from going anywhere other than the grocery store or the pharmacy (to neither of which places I’ve gone in a week). Hardly a sacrifice.

No, I can’t sit in the same room with my son and daughter-in-law, or give them a hug when they appear at our door bearing gifts of pizza and pierogies. But they’re not sick and neither are we. And I want it to stay that way. If not touching or sitting in the same room as them for a couple of weeks or months will do the trick? I’m all for it.

Compared to the horrors of the hospitals? There is none.

Treasure the Little Things

So in honor of those who are in the trenches, in honor of the people who are working slavishly day in and day out trying to save as many lives as possible without having the right equipment or survival mechanisms at their disposal, I try to treasure the little things.

In honor of those who are tragically losing their lives every day, I am trying to appreciate the beauty that surrounds this place where I am forced to stay for not only my own good, but the good of my family, community, county, and state.

What do I see when I pay exquisite attention?

Beauty. Innocence. Magnificence. Agelessness.

And that quality I always seem to come back to no matter how hard I try to focus my attention elsewhere: love.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-609)

Hold On – Day 497

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Cloud Shark – Photo: L. Weikel

Hold On

I’m not going to sugar coat it: last week was pretty awful. And each day seemed to take us a couple steps further down the road to – where, exactly? I’m not sure. But no matter how you look at things, I’m pretty sure you’ll agree that they’re going to get worse this week. And all we can do is hold on.

One reason things will get worse this week is because this is the first Monday of a week in which, almost everywhere, if you’re not considered an employee in an ‘essential industry’ then you will be home.

Shock to the System

This whole concept, the very idea that so many of us will no longer have an office to report to, will come as a shock to not only ‘the’ system but ‘our’ systems as well: not only our national, regional, and local economic systems, but also to our internal systems, our sense of who we are and how we personally fit into the world.

I’m not saying this to be doom and gloom. I’m saying this so you can prepare your internal system – your navigation system, your system of balance, your sense of self and how you go about your day, your comprehension of your place in the Universe. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to arrive and people are going to feel like they’ve been playing The Game of Life and their dog just bounded into the room and upended the game board, scattering the pieces to the four winds.

Boom.

We’re In This Together

If I can assure any of you reading this right now of anything, I want you to know that we’re all in this together. Every single one of us is going to be impacted by either the Coronavirus (Covid-19) or the economics of basically having our entire economy slow to a point where it’s a shell of its former self. And let’s face it: many if not most of us may ultimately end up having to deal with both.

As the week starts off, I’d like to suggest that you smudge your home. You’ll recall that smudging is a cleansing ritual in which you use the smoke of a burning bundle of sage (or of some leaves of sage burning in an appropriate container) to cleanse and purify your environment. Even just lighting up some sage and breathing in the scent can clear your head and help shift your perspective.

I feel we could all benefit from setting ourselves up for success as we set out on our quests this week.

And quests they are: discovering who we are when all our familiar touchstones (for us adults, our jobs or vocations, our workplaces, our favorite places to work out or be with friends, and for our children, our schools, our sports and competitions, our musicals and school plays and band practice) are suddenly gone or unavailable to us…

Pondering the Questions

Who are we when all the things we’ve done almost without thinking for as long as we can remember are taken away from us? Who are we when we have no errands to run? No clients to call? Who are we when we suddenly have the time to do those things we’ve told ourselves we’d rather be doing? Maybe those yearnings should’ve been updated a decade ago. Maybe they’re no longer a reflection of our dreams? Maybe they were an illusion, a fantasy that simply kept us from loving our lived experience.

As we figure these things out, it’s important we remember: we’re all in this together. We’re going to get through it. It’s true, we may find that some people and situations – including ourselves – are a disappointment. These realizations will call for adjustments. But all in all? I’d wager we’re going to discover some amazing treasures along the way. Precisely because we’re all in this together.

So hold on. Take heart. Wash your hands; keep your distance; and know that together we can get through anything. And we’re going to come through it all transformed.

Magnolia buds – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-614)

Feeding the Birds – Day 496

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Feeding the Birds – Photo: L. Weikel

Feeding the Birds

Some of you may remember my semi-flip out back in September when suddenly all the birds not only went silent but actually left the premises. It was a long 20 days or so before they finally started returning, much to my huge relief. It’s possible, I suppose, that they all just suddenly discovered plentiful seeds and other treats somewhere else. But the abruptness and totality of their departure – and the similar abruptness of their return – just seemed kind of weird.

I do intend to pay attention this fall, to see if they make it into an annual habit.

Looking For Normal

This past week felt like I was trapped in a time warp. Every day I had to make a concerted effort to steady and ground myself – almost as if I’d awakened in the midst of an ocean and had to regain my sea legs before I could walk into the next room. But it wasn’t a physical wavering. It was a psychological one – or perhaps even deeper; perhaps an existential one.

So many assumptions and fundamental beliefs I’ve held about our country and our ability to respond to any challenge – no matter how grave, how daunting, or how threatening – have been shattered this week. And the worst part about that? The worst part is knowing that it was completely avoidable. The worst part is knowing that our lack of preparation and ability to respond (responsibility) was facilitated by the deliberate obfuscation of those at the highest levels of our government.

And people are starting to get sick and die in numbers that grow exponentially, daily, as a result.

So? Having no real power to effect meaningful change until Election Day, I need to look for normal amidst the chaos. Looking for normal yesterday afternoon meant feeding my birds.

Everyday Joy

The temperature outside climbed to 78 degrees yesterday. Needing to ground myself and reconnect to what’s real and sustainable, I found myself sitting on my porch in the sunshine, reveling in birdsong. For a precious few minutes, I was able to wrap myself in a cocoon of delight as I listened to the robins and the fish crows trill and grok, respectively. I watched both two red shouldered woodpeckers and a downy cling to my front feeder and push around a chickadee, then heard but could not see-to-save-my-life the producer of the unmistakable, heavy-billed <<thwacking>> of a pileated just beyond the garage.

I watched goldfinches, house finches, sparrows and wrens flit and flutter amongst the shelter of the carcass of our Christmas tree, which we prop against one of the maples in our yard each year to give them additional cover from the sharp-shinned and red-tailed hawks that patrol the area. Nuthatches marched upside down on the maples and I even glimpsed either a blue bird or an indigo bunting before it disappeared into the thicket along our driveway.

My effort to reclaim normal consisted of the measured, meditative act of filling our birdfeeders and feeding the birds.

Pandemic Partners

I hope I’ll be able to keep my feeders filled over the coming months. The joy and sense of connection with All Life that birds give me is abundantly healing and centering. I recently came across this great article with excellent tips on how to make our yards welcoming, safe, and enticing to these wonderful creatures. It affirmed why Karl and I are so lucky to have so many feathered friends sharing this land we call home.

So many of the suggestions in this article are sound common sense, but they’re also little ways of changing our relationship with birds and Mother Earth that help bring us into balance with Her.

And ultimately, as we make our way through the devastation of this pandemic, coming back into balance with Mother Earth will be key. Celebrating and appreciating our birds can remind us of that.

Goldfinch – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-615)

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday – Day 494

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Anonymous Representative of Coronavirus Birthday Celebrants Everywhere

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday

Coronavirus Equinox Birthday. Well, there’s a mouthful for you. What a day.

I gave birth to a certain someone 32 years ago today. Alas, the 19thof March was not the spring equinox that year, which definitely would’ve made the day even more sacred than it already his arrival certainly made it for me. But on the upside, there wasn’t a pandemic stampeding across the globe, with nary a facemask or bottle of hand sanitizer in sight.

Festivity Buzzkill

I have to say, this social distancing, and in some cases social isolation, is a festivity buzzkill. All in service to the preservation of mankind, though, which I totally support and appreciate.

However – and Karl will back me up on this I’m sure – we need to implement new rules with respect to pandemic birthdays. Why? Because when we’re forced to forego actually being together and celebrating as a family, somebody always ends up a LOSER.

Since we live fairly close to each other, we’ve frequently had the chance to celebrate birthdays with the “CVEB-Boy” as the years have gone by. All – every single one –has involved a sharing of cake (unless one or the other of us was out of town or otherwise indisposed).

All have involved birthday cake, most often of the Aunt Carol’s Cake variety.

This time, though, because of our adherence to the CDC and Commonwealth of Pennsylvania’s Guidance on maintaining social distancing, we found ourselves in a particularly difficult spot.

The Police song “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” kept repeating in a never-ending loop in my head, while my tastebuds yearned to be rewarded for my efforts not only in birthing a 9 lb. 4 oz. baby 32 years ago but also in baking a chocolate cake in the midst of a pandemic.

I risked my life buying butter and powdered sugar for that icing.

Proof of Love

You’ve heard the expression, “proof of life,” in kidnap situations? Well, I feel like I delivered proof of love instead.

This is what I delivered to the doorstep of my middle son this afternoon. In the midst of a pandemic.

Coronavirus Birthday Treats – Photo: L. Weikel

So, you tell me. (And yes, that’s three flavors of Owowcow ice cream, too). Even in the midst of a pandemic, when the meme above is (sadly but hilariously) representative of all  those celebrating birthdays around the world in these troubled times, I think we can all agree on one thing: this guy (my guy) scored. Big time.

Especially since he didn’t have to share any of it with us!

I hope you had a great birthday, Middle Son. Your personal anniversary, on the equinox no less, is especially precious this year. I hope we’ll be able to share the treats next year. In person.

(T-617)

Dramatic Recovery – Day 493

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Precious Wants to Know – Photo: L. Weikel

Dramatic Recovery

Alas, I’m not referring to anyone or any particular country’s dramatic recovery from the current scourge of the century, the Coronavirus or Covid-19. But I am referring to Mother Earth.

Left to her own devices, free from the oppressive influence and intervention of humans, she bounces back to clarity, purity, and vibrant good health astonishingly quickly.

You’ve probably seen the articles that displayed the dramatic reduction in air pollution (so great it was noticeable from space) over the Wuhan area of China and the return to clarity of the canal waters in Venice. There have even been sightings of dolphins, swans, and a great number of fish in those waters recently.

Nature Doesn’t Need Us

It seems to me that nature is showing us quite clearly that it doesn’t need us to take care of itself at all. In fact, we’re almost certainly the anchors around its neck. Here is an article with some great links to information that gives me renewed hope for the future of our planet.

I want to have hope about our ability to quickly and effectively address climate change. In truth, I think the fundamentally most important thing any of us can do is get out of nature’s way. And to that end? I have to wonder:

Is this massive, unprecedented halt of human activity around the globe the last desperate act of Mother Earth to show us just how toxic and deadly we’ve become to her?

It sure seems to me like it to me.

The question is whether, when we come out on the other side of this devastating scourge, we will simply resume our ugly old habits, or rub the sleep out of our eyes, look around, and realize – this time, on a global level – “never again.”

(T-618)

Public Access to Nature Update – Day 492

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Panorama of High Rocks – Photo: L. Weikel

Public Access to Nature – Update

As I lamented in my post Banging the Drum, the announced closure of the State Parks in Bucks and Montgomery Counties was both a shock and a deep disappointment. While I certainly understood, of course, the need to mitigate the danger of spreading the Coronavirus infection to park visitors and staff, closing these State Parks at this time, especially, felt ill-advised. After all, schools are being closed and people are being essentially counseled to ‘stay home’ and not go anywhere where there are crowds of people.

What better invitation (and need) to spend some quality time in nature than that?

Obviously, the best way to accomplish the goal of promoting the safety of park staff and visitors was believed to be by shutting down all buildings and facilities, including restrooms, and postponing or canceling all programs where staff and visitors would be meeting in groups. Given that it was a ‘complete’ shutdown, all parking lots were also closed.

I was even more distressed the next day, when I read about New York’s Governor Cuomo shutting down that state, yet recognizing the therapeutic value of being in nature decided at the same time to waive the state park fees – in order to promote New Yorkers’ connection to and enjoyment of the outdoors.

Change of Heart

But I’m excited to report that a little bird told me that a change of heart occurred! Apparently, when Governor Wolf decided to close down the entire state of Pennsylvania the day after the announcement of complete closure of the parks that I mentioned in my post, the powers-that-be realized the critical need of the citizenry to have somewhere in nature they can go to get away from the four walls of their homes, soak up some Vitamin D, feel the wind in their hair, sun on their faces, and just be in the company of trees and creeks and rivers and rocks.

So the decision was made to keep the trails and parking lots open. Huzzah!

Take Care of Business Beforehand

Take heed, though! The closure of all facilities and amenities at the parks remains in effect. That means, of course, that you need to relieve yourself of your morning or afternoon’s ingestion of beverages before arriving at the park.

And your added responsibilities don’t end there. The State Park system has been forced to send certain staff home for quarantine and because the buildings are all being closed. While Park Rangers will continue to be in the area, they may be spread a bit thinner.

So use your head. Don’t get cocky. Give yourself the gift of being in nature and enjoying it without drama.

Our lives are all entering uncharted territory at this point. We’ve made our preparations to ‘hunker down’ as best as we can, but we know, deep down, that this is not some blizzard that will only take a couple days to clear. We’re in a place of recalibration and re-centering. We have to adjust to a starkly new reality – for the long haul.

Gratitude for Public Access to Nature

I’m ever so thankful that Pennsylvania DCNR has discovered the middle way of protecting its park staff and citizens, while allowing them to enjoy and embrace the benefits of being nurtured by Mother Earth.

Tohickon Ducks – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-619)