As I write this, I am sitting by the open front door of my neighborhood cafe. It’s the same place I sat just over a year ago, before Covid changed everything. My temperature just recorded next to my address and phone number. My mask is off, spring air chilled by the river a quarter-mile to the west. In a time when we yearn for the familiar, for our tried-and-true routines, this one has returned. I now treat this freedom as…
