Coronavirus19 Diary - What Will I Do Today

I am still not called back from furlough. It is now 12 weeks. I wake up each morning and try to figure out what I will do to fill the day. At least at this point we can move about the city a bit more. I get on my bike and head out to a park a couple of miles from my house. Riding is one of the times when I feel most normal. If the lakefront were open I would go to the beach, but, alas, it is not. 

The park is lovely and tranquil. At one end is a venerable high school, built in 1929. There are large expanses of lawn punctuated with tall, old trees. Their wide spreading branches offer areas of shade. Some of the park is given over to patches of recreated prairie, lush profusions of natural grasses and brightly colored, knee high wildflowers behind rough wooden fences with narrow paths running through them. They provide safe habitat for butterflies and a buffet for foraging birds. Found throughout parks in the city they are meticulously created. Sown and burned to recreate nature's cycle of death and renewal, mowed to remove invasive plants and promote indigenous growth. I try to imagine the era before the city when this landscape covered much of the Midwest. A woman in a broad brimmed straw hat wanders through one creating in the distance a scene reminiscent of the wealth of the impressionist artworks housed in the still shuttered Art Institute.

I have a lengthy phone conversation with a friend, also furloughed and awaiting a return to work. We met while working together at a jewelry store a couple of years ago. Children scamper and laugh enjoying the sun. Their innocence charms me. It is warm but a soft breeze keeps the temperature comfortable. A small dog comes up to me deciding that I am a friend. It's mom keeps calling it back. Reluctantly it bids me goodbye and returns to her.

I ride through the park before returning home. On the way back I go through what is, in normal times, a bustling area of restaurants and eclectic shops. Things are slowly returning to their former state. Many of the stores are open. People sit at socially distant tables on the sidewalks outside of restaurants. Indoor dining is still not allowed.

I return home, lock up my bicycle in the garage of my building and try to decide what to do with the remainder of my day. I promised my husband that I would bake cookies, that should kill an hour.