Shelter in Place, San Francisco, January 27, 2021

We are getting to the full-circle point where nearly every day will remind us of something we were doing just before the pandemic landed in our laps - “normal life,” the eventful and uneventful things that happened before we knew that everything was about to change. I am reminded of this irony as I pick Meyer lemons this morning to make a cake. There were ripe ones (not quite so many) a year ago, hidden far beneath the branches and waiting for a chance to share a cake with friends.

A year ago today John and I got word that our China trip had been delayed, a full cross-country celebration of the TransAntarctica expedition’s 30th anniversary, postponed until September because there was a virus spreading in a place called Wuhan - not on our itinerary, but close enough to warrant caution and a pause in planning such a whirlwind of events (of course, September came and went without renewing all those plans).

This week is the anniversary, too, of my last trip to casually meet up with friends in Seattle where, unbeknownst to us, the virus had also just arrived. How little we suspected what was to come. How ‘normal’ it felt to be together for a weekend, laughing in the kitchen, toasting each other by firelight, and planning more visits in the year to come.

It’s hard to anticipate such freedom and adventure anymore and dangerous to hope too much that ‘normal’ will return anytime soon. Living in the moment is safer now. So as the calendar moves round full circle, we will celebrate the little things - like baking a lemon cake to cheer us on a cold, wet California morning, and remembering again how lucky we are to have each other and a place called home.