A brief, shining moment
For all that was horrible, I remember the middle of the pandemic quite fondly
Last weekend I met a friend for beers in midtown Manhattan, a few blocks above Times Square, which is the absolute worst part of New York City. She’s a climber friend with a home in New Hampshire—during the height of the pandemic we had climbed together nearly every week, although now she is back to work full time in the city.
Over a Guinness and a Smithwick’s, we lamented that we hadn’t seen each other in a while. But then, neither of us had seen much of our other friends up in New Hampshire either.
It seems everyone is back to work, back in person, back to their normally-scheduled lives, and therefore not at their second homes in New Hampshire, not spending their afternoons climbing, or their evenings bundled up outside around campfires stealing an hour or two of semi-socially-distanced social time.
And I’m no different.
Our little NH climbing community that was such a source of connection the last two years has been scattered. And I miss it.