JANUARY 16, 2021

     Did I say holy goodness? Holy crap. What a year. I've got scant appetite for describing what it's been like for me, because chances are it was worse for you, and I honor that. Difficult for everybody, but my family and most of my friends have been lucky and blessed so far, and for that I'm grateful. Also, for any of those of us who make our living in part from explaining viruses, it 23354 330has been very busy. So busy, I've neglected this blog, saying what I've been able to say in other contexts, journalistic (see the links to the left) and Twitteroid. Now I'm starting to get caught up and perhaps I can resume making the occasional post here, on what I've been learning—by sedulous reading of scientific articles, interviewing scientists, and on the wind—about Covid-19 and the nefariously complex, agile virus that causes it, SARS-CoV-2.

     There are other things that bear commenting on also. My friends Bill Kittredge, Brian Persha, and Barry Lopez all died within recent months, and those losses leave gaps. I will comment on them, as I have opportunity, elsewhere. Barry was like a brother to me, an elder brother—and if that were the case, I guess Peter Matthiessen, gone also these few years, felt like my uncle. I should be so lucky. But when I think of it: If Barry had been my elder brother, I probably could never have become a writer—it would have been too daunting, following in his steps. I would have had to turn aside into one of the only other plausible careers for which I was suited: a circus clown or a herpetologist.

     I miss them, all three.  You should read Bill, read Barry. And if you ever have a chance to lay hold of some of Brian's artistic pottery, do. You'll know it by his profund appreciation of the shades of blue.



David Quammen