In these quarantine days I have become very enamored of my morning walk. I do slow laps around the cul-de-sacs, dodging joggers and strollers from a six foot distance, taking deep breaths of that Florida smell—biomass, car juices, jasmine. You can laugh at me for being an old person, but I’m North-adjusted now and I think 85 is too hot to go for a run, even if I could drum up the motivation.
Also I would have to stop to look at all the froggies.