My daily walk that I am still lucky I can do often takes me to an empty school yard. Often I am alone there and the only sound is that of birds chirping. The traffic has died down a great deal so it is now possible to hear the birds clearly. I feel grateful for the freedom to take a walk each day - something many of my elderly relatives in India are sorely missing. I call them often these days to cheer them up as they wait for life to resume. My aunt M is chronically ill and immuno-compromised. We are all worried about her making it to the end of this thing. She lives confined to her room with almost no human contact.
I remembered a few days ago a family I knew from childhood who moved from Kolkata to Flushing. We met them a couple of times after they immigrated. Yesterday, I wondered if they were still in NY and safe. This is the first time I they have come to mind in two or three decades. Maybe in the crisis of this proportion, we start to pull closer to everyone we know and love. Maybe the birds get a break from our noise and chaos and sing more freely, enjoy the bounties of springtime. The young dad forced to work from home bonding with his two little girls in the empty parking lot playing silly games with them - also a chance beneficiary of these difficult times. When those kids grow up they may remember this period of time quite fondly.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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