with hurdles we fall foreword. complaining regardless of the outcome. oh to forget what it was like before the pandemic, before the fighting, before the fires and conflicts. we dont remember these problems in our sleep and in the early hours of the morning before we turn on the news or check the feed, between it all when we are dealing with other issues either self made of imposed onto us. those are nice moments.

that it will never come again makes life so sweet.

emily dickinson-

outside, face mask are prevalent, a fear of a sickness that has arrived is evident. not when the whales breach onto the beaches or the birds fell from the sky, but more so when our own hospitals fill to a capacity. we are one system, when one part gets sick so does the other. a natural reaction to an overpopulation, rapid production and incessant occupation we inflict on our home. we are the virus, just as complex, just as deadly. reaping what we sow, time continues forward regardless.

in time the seasons will change. life will spring again and all of this will be behind us. and it will repeat as everything else does. a reminder of how precarious it all is. a reminder to us to never know where in the storm we might be and how bad it might become. as the doctors work on a cure for a sickness that defines our modern times we go about our days as if nothing has changed. meanwhile a complex virus, just like us, is trying to take over its host. something we have been doing all along, and we will fight back just as the world fights us. circles within circles as the stone thrown into the water causes the ripples to move outward.