Rising early to read and write I sat in the early dawn light here in the lobby at the Best Western Derby Inn in Eagle River.  The slant of the sun illuminates the line of white birch trees in the distance.  I exchanged morning greetings with one of the managers just after she had passed through the front entrance.  She mentioned that it was 8 degrees outside.  Winter releases a grip upon the ground slowly here in the north woods.

This is day number two of the covid-19 virus bomb that has wrenched to a halt the pell-mell scrum for economic advantage which is the norm for us

Americans.  The advisement to practice social distancing has been enforced through the media by a shutting down of international air travel.  There’s a ripple effect of cancellation of reservations for local air travel, and of lodging accommodations at Inns such as this one.

This is a comfortable place to be, civilized, safe by all accounts.  The friendly manager described the practice of using bleach water to disinfect surfaces that are often touched.  The interior of the inn has been recently remodeled, and is clean to all appearances.

Piercing the “normal” of my life and expectations, and into that of every person living in social contact with others around the world,  comes a shattering word.  A potentially lethal virus has been

widely disseminated for which we have no treatment, and  for which there is insufficient means for even detecting.

I heard the president’s flat, mono tonal voice on TV once so far today, speaking to a circumstance that he does not wish to believe.  Promises are made, assurance of measures for which insufficient resources have been dedicated — have produced the predictable chaos at a number of our larger airports.  Silence would be more helpful than further utterances from this disengaged individual.  He loves to fool himself.

It is as if the voice of god (substitute a god of your preference) has spoken a directive, a pronouncement of life and death that has interrupted the course of our goals and plans.

We need to stop and listen.