Thanksgiving

I've been aware, these past several weeks, of hush, of stillness. In the city I've walked on streets where I've only ever known bustle and had the sidewalk width to myself. In parking lots I have my choice of spaces. In client offices I've waited all alone in lobbies. Quiet and hush. This sense that the world is turned around on itself, knotted with questions, and of course it is. These are the times in which we live.

But yesterday, at the farmer's market: A prevailing neighborliness. Stories shared over counters of cheese and chocolate about children coming home, tables being extended, rooms being rearranged for guests. A rediscovery (perhaps, again) that in the hardest times as in the best of times we are glad for one another.