Stillness in the Storm

Determined to stay local in the summer of COVID-19, I find myself daydreaming about traveling. This past week alone, while knowing we aren’t going anywhere, did not stop me from looking at rentals on the Cape, in Stowe, Vermont, even out in the Southwest. Patagonia, Arizona, anyone? Moab, Utah?

It’s interesting that I’d never taken a road trip out of the Northeast until three years ago, and yet these days if I stay put too long, I fall into that sensation Anaïs Nin wrote about, “I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.”

Restless. Yes, that’s part of what I’m feeling.

Strangely, I’m also enveloped in a grounded peace simultaneously.

The Mount Washington Valley is currently insane with those who decided not to let the coronavirus keep them at home. I’m not sure we’ve ever seen crowds like we have this week. (We came across more out of state license plates than from New Hampshire today.) Their angst and anger, their rowdiness, and entitlement a…