Out of an abundance of caution, Jess and I have been staying almost entirely indoors, aside from our weekly-ish trips to the grocery store and our building’s laundry room.

But as recent research seems to imply that longer-distance airborne transmission is unlikely, and as we had started to go a little stir-crazy with apartment fever, last night we strapped on masks, and braved a long walk through Central Park.

The paths were almost entirely deserted. Which, on top of our general anxiety these days, gave everything a subtle undercurrent of dread.

Still, as we looped around the Reservoir, I was increasingly glad to be out, reminded of how beautiful NYC is.

Even if, at every turn, we were confronted by small reminders that these aren’t normal times.

Or, at least, not normal times for humans. The rats and squirrels and ducks and racoons were out en masse. And the flora had begun to awaken for spring, flowers sprouting and trees budding all around us.

At the top of the reservoir, we saw lights that weren’t normally there, and realized it was the (controversial, evangelical-run) COVID-19 field hospital.

It was still a ways off in the distance, but we were doubly glad to be wearing masks nonetheless.

So, again, a slightly strange trip. But, on balance, a comforting one. Even in difficult times, New York keeps on being New York. We’ll be alright.