California Chronicles: Chapter Three

Palm Springs/Joshua Tree/Anza-Borrego Desert

The number of dead Americans due to the coronavirus has reached 600,000. Considering my health history and comorbidities, I'm fortunate to have escaped any sickness. That gives me little to complain about. But I am of that class of people who saw their lives change in different ways. Once lockdowns occurred and the world was instructed to stay home to keep ourselves and others safe, we felt secure in these little out-of-the-way pockets sprinkled across the globe. Then the urban areas emptied, and the flood came. We'd stayed home, but so many did not. And the virus spread.

For a man who once loved cities but chose to flee to heal and nurture his soul, the changes did not agree with me, and I began to suffocate, feeling as I did when my lungs failed me five years previously. The final straw was when many of the quiet places we walk became crowded, and leash rules started being adopted.

I turned bitter and resentful. I felt trapped—not by the virus, but by society.

John Muir wrote, "Civil…