Shelter in Place, San Francisco, January 5, 2021

And now the rain comes. It blows in sheets across the yard. It hammers at the door. Then, like a faucet turned, the rain is suddenly gone. By the time I run outside, the sky is blue.

I am like this tiny, cheerful fuchsia ballerina I found hiding beneath bigger leaves and cradling the last drop. I keep thinking that the worst is over and then we hit another storm - the president and his cronies up their crazy, dangerous, bat-shit game, the virus morphs, the vaccine rollout crawls nearly to a stop. And I am suspended once again, battered, balancing the weight, and waiting for my feet to finally reach the floor.

May these next few weeks go swiftly and may our country hold on tight.