Yesterday morning we drove past the cherry trees in the park across from the state capitol. Given the chilly weather lately — there was even some snow on the ground in the hilly areas around town — it will be many days yet before they are at the peak of their bloom.

I was out this morning at the first hint of light, walking in an icy wind. I thought of the homeless, clustered in great numbers on the city streets of the world. I also thought how writing about cherry blossoms could be seen as an act of helplessness, or even arrogance. But writing about cherry blossoms doesn’t mean I am unaware of the virus scare, or that the nation has looted its own toilet paper supply, the hoarders at home clinging in fear to their soft, downy rolls. Or should I say roles? And yet it would…