My resolution in the year of COVID-19 is to read Defoe's A Journal of the Plague Year. I've tried and failed to finish Samuel Pepys' account in the past. Rats and their fleas get all the blame, but there was (and is) a pneumonic form that is more lethal. Its symptoms are not unlike COVID-19, but it is treatable with antibiotics. We don't yet know how how lethal COVID-19 will be, but for now it has disrupted my lifestyle and outlook.
Planning to treat stir-craziness in a physical-distancing way, I took my camera to the Chessie Trail in hopes of finding bluebells and other wild flowers. I had a lovely walk, but a significant number of others had the same notion. No one coughed or sneezed in my hearing so I trust I avoided infection this time.
I arrived to snare the last parking place at the trailhead. If I had been more committed to caution I would have turned around and gone home, but I did want to see the flowers. The recent unseasonal heat meant that they wouldn't keep long.
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