Saturday, October 3rd, 2020

A young mother runs in exaggerated slow motion across the grassy plot where women do Tai Chi. A toddler tries to follow her. Few other people are outside here. I've waited until late afternoon to head out of my apartment. It isn't too hot. I’m OK in my long-sleeved t-shirt. I head down to the city square to see if my Chromebook can find open WiFi. My connection is OK at home at the moment, but I like to have options. I only see a few people between my house and the square, mostly accompanying dogs. I hear a few families along the way, hidden behind high stone walls. The square itself is busier. Parents sit and watch their children roam around on bicycles. Older people sit at small stone tables and talk. Three white-haired men around a backgammon board share a thermos, espresso mugs, and a can of Raid. My phone app claims to find several open WiFi signals here. My Chromebook sees none of them. Apparently the local cafes shut their signals down when they're closed. A woman walks past with a large Israeli flag. I don’t know why. It's a national holiday, but between the Sabbath and the lockdown, there’s no sign of it. Two more people walk by with handmade placards that I can't read. A man carries another flag past me, a blank field of black or dark blue. I follow them. At the front of the square, where the caregivers have their dance parties, a dozen masked people, properly distanced, stand quietly along the curb with flags and signs. Cars honk their horns rhythmically as they pass. The only sign that I can read says "There is a Future." That's the name of a political party. I can't recall which one. Night falls. The crowd thins. Buses start to roll by. I still have a lot to do before work tomorrow. I wander home.