Venice Beach, California

I’m walking through the Park. Spring’s starting to look like summer with leaved trees, a warm sun, and the smell of pine. Hiking out of the forest onto the playground, I notice there’s no basketball or pickleball, softball or children bursting with excitement. The stillness is startling. But it’s peaceful. Away from the news and the numbers and the hospitals, I can feel a deep calmness, a pause, not unlike a grand meditation, a timeout for humanity. And I wonder if there’s a deeper meaning.

I’m hoping, as spring fades to summer and children return to the park, that a few things have changed. Like maybe, a new reliance on science to help us solve our problems and a new way of working and cooperating, a realization that we’re all connected, tied together by our mutual relative, mother nature. And I’m hoping she’s showing us we are inseparable, people animals and plants, forest ocean and sky. And I’m hoping that maybe, I’ll see a time when people smile with optimism. And lastly, when this is all over, I’m hoping for a plate of enchiladas and a good margarita.