Yesterday I went for coffee. Every two weeks I buy beans and get a shot of decaf. The baristas all know me from 'normal times', and now they know my new order and start pulling a shot of decaf when I walk in the door. I recognize the new barista who used to work at my other coffee shop. Back in normal times. She's 6'1 with red hair, as unmistakable as me on my first trip to China. We laugh with our eyes and shout unintelligibly through our masks at each other. I take my shot outside, sit on the bench, look at the dwarf ginkgo tree. Two leaves are still hanging on.
After the coffee, I walk down to the produce market, and forget what a pomegranate looks like. The clerk laughs at me with her eyes and agrees. You don't spend any time thinking, what does the outside of a pomegranate look like?
Thanksgiving. Grey skies, 40 degrees, a frigid wind, a persistent drizzle.