After the snow falls, deep comfort settles in. Its quietude is soothing, making sleep sound and dreams both vivid and fantastical. A long walk into the forest before sunset after trees have shed all snow from their branches piques appetite for a tasty hot meal before nightfall.
Far away from noisy civilization maniacally churning away at its highly profitable business of self destruction, I relish the soft silence the snow-carpeted forest provides. Peace in distance.
Reading daily news about the pandemic, an article in The Atlantic caught my eye. It was a COVID patient's account of his experience in south Texas hospitals while deep in throes of the disease. After being moved from one hospital unsuitable for dealing with cases like his to another and then within that second hospital from a makeshift isolation room to another properly designed and equipped for his rapidly declining condition, a nurse checking his vitals leaned in close and whispered “You have to get out of here. This place is dangerous.”
If I somehow catch COVID and it becomes obvious I am so seriously ill I will not survive, nothing will be better than finding distance peace in the forest, far from dangerous hospitals.