Recently I was at the grocery store and an older man was letting people in line go in front of him because "people have been so kind to me during the pandemic and I want to pay it back". It was such a beautiful moment of kindness.
Easter Sunday morning. I sit at the window and look at the lake - the trees still undressed in their summer finery. I ponder the meaning of the season. It has been a long winter, living in isolation in the midst of so much sadness and death, kind of like a mushroom cloud.