Except for the diminution of business on First Street and a multiplicity of masked joggers

things continued peacefully the same on our self-appointed rounds…

April showers, which now seem far [only a few days ago] away, April sun

[Lobster boat, Cape Breton, a 1988 oil painting done in SF]  An alley…

April sun in yard, with dogs.

Unsuccessfully checking for the leaks, Shipibo pot by night,

down along the straits with

mask at the ready, rubber taco from Trancas ca. 1968…geese and

an ocean-going tug apparently abandoned for The Duration opposite the Benicia Yacht Club.

Empty streets lured ducks uptown on the day

I went foraging for paper goods and bulk grains w/o success,

the world empty

as it ever was. Additional non-futures; Craters of the Moon National Monument, March 1967

Black Rock Desert, May 1975

Cathcart Place, SE Oregon, 1977

Whereas here, whereas now, just about the same number of humans on the street, friendly,  masked but generally friendly.  Meanwhile all around, if we are to believe what we see on TV, chaos and storms are raging, hospitals filling, failing, funeral homes setting aside extra space for corpses …weather’s unseasonably cooler, the cognitive becomes ever more dissonant, the times they are a-strangin’. Easter and Passover

[not shown] were celebrated in solitude in this plague year, we hear.

But thoughtfully so…and SO much in the shifting sands of the daily news that confuse that just cannot or will not be addressed. Here.  As a wiseass fool once memorably remarked; “If you don’t like the news, go out and make some of your own“.

Well, there’s that. Just make it responsibly for instance.