Slow news day

This morning I photograph two different colored slugs on a wooden footbridge and think, ‘Slow news day.’ I fix French toast. Then I fix the toilet. I fix words in an article I’m sending out to the newspaper to announce that art is still being shown and taught during COVID time. My mother reports her Bible study group met in person but had to mask and social distance, and then they couldn’t hear. A bank teller asks if I want a doggy treat. I want to tease and say ‘no, but my dog would love it,’ but based on prior experience I say yes. A cashier tells me the store is about to round up everyone’s bill to the nearest dollar and give the change to a local food bank. I say that’s great. She says I am the first person today to be positive about that. Shocking, I say. I mean, it’s 99 cents or less to feed your neighbors. She agrees. I drive to the river with Luke and photograph a cormorant and a great blue heron and a little boy walks past on the path saying ‘I like your dog,’ and I say ‘He likes you, too,’ and he laughs, surprised. I wish I didn’t have to social distance from all these beings. An author emails to say thanks for my review of a book, and I write back with another review. I edit my own book. I nick my leg shaving. My sister calls while I’m watching Nicodemus and John the Baptist grill each other. Now I’m typing this. I’m trying to live in the present, but sometimes the present is tense.
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