I came across this Wendell Berry poem which makes me feel hopeful and filled with love.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free

I hate to think that this is normal. I resist calling it the new normal. The masks, the social distancing, face timing/google meeting/zooming with friends, family and clients, avoiding any social event that has more than 10 people, avoiding restaurants. It isn’t normal and it isn’t the new normal. It just sucks. Two of my co-workers tested positive for Covid 19 after the first vaccine. I wonder if they took chances with their masks or social distancing due to a false sense of safety.

It rained all day. It’s dark, dreary and damp. Toby is a handful and we are tired trying to figure out his signals. Especially the poop and pee signal. Tomorrow the sun will come out and we will start again to make sense of our puppy.