Shelter in Place, San Francisco, November 10, 2020
This week the South African Daisies began their cheerful rebirth, in what will soon become a whole crowded hedge of yellow flowers brightening the winter months. The garden also enjoyed its first precipitation since April, though only a few drops so far. Someday soon the rain will come in buckets and revitalize the plants that are trying to hang on.
A few days ago, of course, we saw dancing in the streets as our country voted to unseat a petty despot and return us from the brink. Democracy has won. The emperor has no clothes. I can feel my wilted optimism rise even as I wait for the cowards and enablers to leave the room and the grownups to speak up and prevail. And yesterday’s news of vaccine trial success has the stock market doing somersaults even as the rest of us cross our fingers and hold our breath, hoping it works and comes in time.
It is a long way to January, when we will finally be safe (almost) from the ‘leadership’ that has failed us, and more months before the vaccine does its job. Inevitably, the interim promises more fear and suffering as we wait. But I will take a cue from the first in this fresh, bright crop of winter daisies: hope rises, love endures, and the rain will always come. Breathe. Wait. Hope.