By Sam Sifton
Good morning. How are you? I drove out to the woods the other day before dawn and was in them as the sun started its ascent. I walked in silence that was not silent at all: bird calls; wind in the canopy; the splash of my boots in a puddle. I was hungry as I walked but not unpleasantly so. I thought about breakfast possibilities, about scrambled eggs and buttered toast, yogurt with a drizzle of maple syrup, crisp bacon, pickled herring. There I was for about an hour, a child of the city deep into nature, thinking about diners and coffee carts and appetizing stores. For the first time in more than a year, I didn’t think about the pandemic at all.
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