November Comes – Elizabeth Coatsworth
November comes and November goes,
With the last red berries
And the first white snows.
With night coming early,
And dawn coming late,
And ice in the bucket
And frost by the gate.
The fires burn
And the kettles sigh,
And earth sinks to rest
Until next spring.
This month brought us to another major American holiday during the pandemic – Thanksgiving. Such a strange holiday centered around food and family gatherings. This year, the added challenge of COVID-19 and risks involved in traveling to see family added a sense of danger to the whole idea of celebrating. I had decided in October that I wouldn’t travel this year for either Thanksgiving or Christmas. It was just too risky – being in airports and on flights where people may or may not be observing the necessary precautions to keep us all safe and healthy; and potentially exposing myself or my family to this terrible disease. My children gathered in Dallas without me, and while it was sad not to be there, I had to remind myself that the past several years have involved different ways of celebrating this holiday, including many in London, Paris or other non-turkey type events with some, but not all of my family. So, this year wasn’t really all that different when it comes to having a traditional American style Thanksgiving complete with the extended family and traditional menu.
My move to the East Bay seems to be centered around reconnecting with friends from childhood, and so that trend continued in November. I met up with another high school friend that happens to live in San Francisco. We share some professional similarities – both having worked in biotech / pharma / medical devices and traveled extensively for work in the pre-COVID world. Earlier in November, we sat outside on a chilly afternoon sharing a meal and diligently masking up to ensure we kept safe. While there was some normalcy in sharing our work stories and what we’ve been doing since we left Minnesota, the fact we couldn’t hug or even shake hands made it feel slightly strange. One thing we did agree on was that celebrating Thanksgiving together would be fun and allow us to enjoy this holiday separated from family and friends who live ‘away.’ Then and there, we made our plans for a CDC approved Thanksgiving celebration with just three single women who live alone and could eat outside.
As the numbers of COVID cases continued to climb, I made my arrangements to head into San Francisco for a couple days of escape. My destination was The Presidio, a former military base that is now a beautifully maintained park with military buildings converted to civilian use. As I drove over the Bay Bridge, I couldn’t help but wonder whether I’d be stopped – my residence in a purple zone (highest level of COVID spread) made me suspect as I traveled into a red zone (a slightly lower rate of COVID). However, no one stopped me, and even though Waze warned me that I should observe local quarantine and curfew requirements, I proceeded to my destination. It felt strange to be driving this route and I remembered that it was the first time since March that I’d driven through the Caldecott Tunnel which separates my current home and Oakland. I don’t drive much these days (well, mostly it’s north to Sonoma or east to Sacramento), and the feeling of going somewhere I shouldn’t hung over me. I ignored this sense of wrongdoing and watched with interest the landscape as I drove towards the Bay Bridge and across the water towards San Francisco.
The Lodge was lovely and the rooms spacious, with all the requisite precautions, including a sizeable bottle of hand sanitizer in the room and plastic wrapped glassware. They had arranged for breakfast so that you could take it in your room or pick up a sack in the mornings to take it outside. After unpacking, I took the time to read some of the postings about the military installation and all that had gone on there over the years. I have a special interest in these retired military bases after having worked on Devens in Massachusetts. Devens continues to have military presence but is a planned community with strict controls over both the residential and business aspects. It is a good example of how to decommission a base without having it become a ghetto or a blight on the surrounding towns. The Presidio is slightly different as it seems to be more of a living museum with conversions of the old military buildings into new uses, or a display of what went on there over the life of the base itself. I also paused to wonder whether this is where my dad had come when he was deployed to the Pacific during World War II. We don’t have much detail about how he got to the Philippines, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t spend some time at The Presidio as he departed or returned to the country.
My contribution to the Thanksgiving dinner was the wine. Having three memberships at Sonoma vineyards, this made sense since I have a nice stash of wine without even going to the shops. At the scheduled time, I walked across the old base towards my friend’s house for our outdoor Thanksgiving dinner. There were 3 of us – all single women, all living alone and two of us working from home fulltime. We diligently wore our masks in the house and had our own little TV-tables outside for the dinner. While we all grew up in the Midwest, they transplanted to California a long time ago, so were ‘cold’ and set their tables near the heat lamp. To me, it was a lovely, temperate afternoon, so I sat furthest away from the heat. The best part about this dinner was that we enjoyed the traditional menu, had good company and were able to feel comfortable that any risks to our health were minimal at best. We were fortunate to have such good weather for eating outdoors so that none of us felt like we were taking unacceptable risks at celebrating Thanksgiving together. All in all, it was a relaxing and fun. I missed my own family and our original plan to get together at my older sister’s house, but needs must, and the alternative was better than nothing.
Friday, I decided to take a walk along the coastline towards the Golden Gate Bridge. There were a fair number of people out along the trails, but everyone was good about masking up as we drew near to each other. It was a beautiful, clear sunny day and I enjoyed looking out over the water. I found several monuments and memorials along the way, including a beautiful one dedicated to the lost of World War II and a memorial for the Korean War. It makes me wonder why we no longer seem to put up memorials to those killed in wars. After all, it’s not like there hasn’t been war since Korea or Vietnam. I wonder what that says about us as a nation? Is it that we no longer honor those who pay the ultimate sacrifice to protect our freedom, or perhaps we now argue over the legitimacy of war, so putting up a monument is too controversial? Whatever the reason, I think it’s sad that we send the message that only those who fought in the wars of the previous generation deserve honoring or recognition.
Friday evening, I decided to check out whether my favorite little French restaurant is still operating. Walking back from my hike, I discovered that it was indeed open and providing take away, in addition to sidewalk seating. I’d heard some discussion about homeless people harassing diners in San Francisco, so decided I’d take a delivery instead. So, I found myself eating a rather fancy French meal, in my hotel room, out of plastic and using my fingers, because apparently, they don’t think you need utensils if you’re ordering something for delivery. I guess this is modern-day roughing it, right?
Usually when I visit a city, I pack in a lot of activities like going to the theater, a concert, church, fancy dining and so on. Unfortunately, none of these options were really available given that nothing was open. Saturday morning, I decided to eat my breakfast and head home. While it was a day early (I usually decorate on Advent 1), I decided to head to the garden shop to get my Christmas tree, door decoration and a poinsettia plant to decorate my apartment. I do love decorating for Christmas, but even this felt different. The shop had signs up reminding us to keep away from each other, and I felt like I needed to get in and out so as not to have too much opportunity to be around strangers. I quickly picked out a tree and grabbed a smaller than usual poinsettia. I did not consider forgoing my real tree and usual decorations, but it didn’t feel as festive as usual. Maybe it’s just knowing that I’ll only be sharing my decorations virtually or via posting photos as opposed to having family or friends over to see them, but something made me feel that splashing out for a bigger spread wasn’t desirable.
And, as expected after Thanksgiving and most people ignoring the order to stay home or to gather in small groups, the COVID numbers started spiking. Within days, we were back into lockdown with our outdoor restaurants being flung back into take away or delivery only. The governor issued orders for shutting down again if the percent of available beds in the hospitals got to a certain number, but the Bay Area counties decided to proactively close. Disappointing, but not surprising. At least the air quality seems to be on the mend, and a weather pattern that effectively trapped pollution over the city for a few weeks has finally cleared off. So, I’m back to spending lots of time at home and running more often.
And that ends the nineth month. A month of giving thanks for the health and wellbeing of friends and family as we anxiously await the promised vaccine that will get us back to less uncertainty and anxiety.
