Times are strange. I feel like I’m watching a movie. When I check the news feed before closing my eyes at night—which, let me just stress, that’s a bad idea—nothing feels real. With every article, every update, thousands more cases have been confirmed with hundreds more deaths right behind. Story after story, photo after photo reveals a world that seems so distant to me as I shelter with my family tucked away in the mountains. I don’t take for granted where we are amidst what feels like the world falling apart around us, things that seemed so permanent and stable are crashing to pieces. We decided the best thing for our family and to help stop the spread of the covid-19 virus during this time is to "shelter-in-place" in a secluded home that our extremely generous friends have offered to us. This house we’ve retreated to sits in a valley. It’s as if the rolling peaks are the walls of our fortress, protecting us from the disease that is slowly yet steadily infiltrating the rest of the world.
We’ve been here for almost two weeks but it feels much longer. It's becoming our home away from home. We’ve gotten into a rhythm of school and play and family time that has been sweet and precious. We’ve hiked and explored, witnessed wildlife wake up after its winter sleep, found spring in the trees blooming the prettiest of flowers, I’ve drank way too much Coke and coffee and the kids have eaten way too much popcorn and ice cream (because apparently a global pandemic calls for over-caffeinating and sugar highs), and Travis and Theo went fishing one night.