Week in Seven Words #582

This covers the week of 3/14/21 - 3/20/21.

branching

Brown, crunchy, bristling paths, a clear view of buildings through bare trees.

decompress

Her relaxation: Diet Dr Pepper, feet on ottoman, British period drama.

desktop

His desk: cigarette burns, a ball made out of rubber bands, a lamp with an oversized bulb that gets too hot too quickly.

impending

Sometimes it feels like we're on the deck of the Titanic, the music playing as the water rises.

older

Wiser in some ways, more bewildered in others.

protective

The water has been drained from the basin, and a girl slides inside to explore the mud-encrusted bottom. Her dog barks frantically from a nearby bench. It's restrained and can't keep her in sight. It can't protect her from whatever awaits her in the mud and the smashed leaves.

unknitted

Tense muscles seem to break apart slightly in the steam.

Week in Seven Words #572

This covers the week of 1/3/21 - 1/9/21.

abed

Tousled hair, face smushed into the pillow, cold air leaking in.

attends

Applying for a job, she wonders how she can make her qualifications look more impressive. "Doesn't fall asleep during Zoom meetings, usually," is a good one.

continue

Stay calm, and keep writing.

friend

Whenever I hear from her, I think about how glad I am that we're friends.

incapacitated

Once seated at the piano, she merely stares at the keys. She doesn't know how to begin, because inside her there's no music, only knots of fear.

morbid

As soon as I start slipping into helpless spectator mode, I try to wrench my attention away from the news.

unsteadily

Buildings in the background, denuded trees in the foreground, and slick muddy paths that make the world wobble.

Week in Seven Words #564

This covers the week of 11/8/20 - 11/14/20.

boredom

He's under the impression that his boredom makes him unique. He believes it's a sign of superior intelligence.

eventful

Quarantined at home, she wears an evening gown to her microwaved dinner.

inevitability

Was it always going to happen this way? Could there have been another way? Another reminder to shift from what-ifs to what I have to do now.

innocence

There's enchantment in his voice when he points out the leaves whirling, settling on the sidewalk in a cascade of gold.

pasty-faced

We Skype again, our voices subdued. I don't even think it's something we enjoy doing anymore, seeing each other's faces through a screen. There's something tiring and unreal about it.

upcycled

As the sun sets, we stroll among dog sculptures made of plastic bags. They're cleverly done, colorful, a contrast to the loose bags and other bits of garbage along the street. Afterwards, we sit on a bench and talk for a while, until it gets too cold and dark.

walking

The day is made better by changing leaves and weather that's cool, not cold.

Week in Seven Words #549

This covers the week of 7/26/20 - 8/1/20.

ballooned

Before the fast begins, my stomach feels like a water balloon.

evasion

Social distancing is a handy excuse to avoid people whose company is undesirable under normal circumstances.

feathery

Feathery white flowers beside a riverside path. Five geese on a sward by the rocky bank.

grooving

The dancing skaters are back. I love watching their meetup in the park, where anyone with rhythm and a pair of skates can join in (I have one but not the other). Most of them wear masks, and one balances a bottle of water on his head as he flies around in figure eights. 

lightening

A walk transforms profound disquiet into new ideas, and I feel somewhat hopeful.

self-care

The little girl chases her dog across a sunny field. They end up under a tree, in the shade. After catching her breath, she orders the dog to chase her. She runs away from the tree and waves her arms. Her parents urge the dog to run after her. But he's a smart dog. He isn't trading the relief of the shade for the mercilessness of the sunshine.

slurred

Wearing the night guard makes me sound like a boxer (the athlete, not the dog).

Week in Seven Words #545

This covers the week of 6/28/20 - 7/4/20.

competitiveness

These days, I'm playing more Scrabble than I have in years. In one game, my opponent creates four seven-letter words. In another game, a different opponent creates two. I'm playing against people who treat Scrabble as a serious pursuit. More than a mere game, it is, at times, a primal conflict.

misdirected

I'm trying to find my way through a beautifully wooded part of the park. There aren't many paths, and I'm sure I know where I'm going, but each time I try to end the walk at a pond, I end up on the edges of a baseball field. The woods keep delivering me to baseball, and I don't even like the sport.

overheated
Dead-eyed people in dusty, faintly pretty parks. A small fountain protests the heat.

patriotism

Throughout the day, there's little evidence of celebration. No flags in windows, and people aren't dressed in red, white, and blue. The one exception is a jogger in shorts that stretch the American flag across his posterior. The first time the day feels celebratory is at night, during a TV broadcast of fireworks – shimmering bursts of liquid color.

pondside

Our walk has earned us front-row seats to massive algae growth. 

rediscovering

For the first time in months, I set foot in a bookstore. The store is mostly empty, and I don't buy anything, but I like being able to walk around and touch the covers, read the jackets and blurbs. 

somewhat

"You always think you're going to do something wrong," she tells me, and my reaction is torn between "Not always" and "Yeah, you have a point."

Week in Seven Words #537

This covers the week of 5/3/20 - 5/9/20.

blocked

On our walk, we head to an art museum in the hopes of seeing into it from the outside. From what I remember, it has some large windows. We find them shuttered.

converging

Multiple sources of stress converge into a tension headache.

permute

Our walks are limited to a relatively small radius, so we're getting inventive about places to visit, new combinations of paths to take.

ripping

A rending wind pushes us down the street. It sends up a swirl of litter. The tulips are half bald, the cherry blossoms cast to the ground.

springtime

Clean air and the colors of tulips and azaleas. One path is pink with fallen cherry blossoms, a lush carpet that will soon get trampled into the mud.

unreadable

The large turtle is very still, as if it's one with the rock formation on which it's sunning. The stillness of the moment breaks with the noise of an airplane. It's writing something across the crisp blue sky, but the letters are too blurry to read.

zeroing

Police hand out citations to people who aren't wearing masks.

Week in Seven Words #536

This covers the week of 4/26/20 - 5/2/20.

beset

Pulses of weariness and despair.

breaks

Two brisk walks in one day. Lots of screen time in between.

flutters
A puddle filled with pink blossoms and shivering birds.

glassy

New construction all looks the same to me: sleek rectangles with large windows and little artistry.

insomnia

It's no use asking my brain why it's woken me up in the middle of the night. Maybe it wants me to admire the shadowy room, and the way the light creeps over the walls.

patrolling

A flock of police officers on bikes. Black masks are stretched over their mouths and noses. They're on the lookout for legal violations, which these days include picnics and outdoor birthday parties.

screens

She tells me that the schools aren't giving grades. Regardless of grades, are the students learning anything from their sessions of screen time? Debatable.

Week in Seven Words #535

This covers the week of 4/19/20 - 4/25/20.

affability

The dog is brisk and friendly as always. Ready to take off on a walk, sniff the larger world, investigate fascinating stains on sidewalks.

discouraged

In a more densely wooded part of the park, I keep an eye out for bird feeders. There were several in one spot the year before, creating the sense of a town square for birds, a plaza with restaurants. But it seems that no one has put up feeders this year. The joke is that even the birds need to socially distance.

feebly

A "we're all in this together" hope-inducing message displayed on an empty theater.

flames

Tulips in fiery colors are breathtaking.

obscured

It's satisfying, the way the path curves along the lake, and you can't see too far ahead.

rudderless

There's little sense of competency at the helm. I had been plugged into the news, but now I wonder if it's worth it. I don't think I'm learning much.

untenanted

The streets are largely empty of traffic. Granted, it's easier to go on a walk this way. And the air is cleaner. But the emptiness is eerie, as if civilization has retreated slightly.

Week in Seven Words #532

This covers the week of 3/29/20 - 4/4/20.

attending

The convenience store is a cube of white light on a dark street. A masked cashier listens to 80s rock while staring out the window.

clanging

In every building on the block, people are at their windows cheering on healthcare workers. They shout, clap, whoop, bang on pots, and blow on trumpets and recorders. Overall, it's a cheerful sound, but I can't help thinking of jail inmates banging their metal cups against the bars.

distant

This feels like a lost springtime. There are blossoming trees and other kinds of loveliness, but it all seems out of reach, as if it's in a parallel world.

emergencies

Streets emptier and sirens more prevalent.

prettiness

A magnolia blossom cradled in the split trunk of a tree.

restlessness

I don't know where I want to walk. I just walk.

undermines

He wears gloves every time he needs to open a door. With a gloved hand he also pulls down his mask and scratches his face. 

Week in Seven Words #530

This covers the week of 3/15/20 - 3/21/20.

forage

They trawl through several stores, buying bottles of water where they can.

hurrying

Her semester cut short, she's flying home on short notice from thousands of miles away.

insecurity

His temper is fraying. He's stressed out about the tanking economy and deeply worried about his job.

mixed

We pass joggers, kids playing basketball, a temporary memorial to synagogues destroyed during the Holocaust, many trees, an obelisk, rows of stores closed.

peacefully

On a bench in the garden, a woman is reading. Three patient, relaxed dogs are nestled around her.

unstick

Ducks with white and black backs peel away from the water.

uptick

Some people are going about with masks. More than during the previous week. They give the streets an eerie feeling, normal daily activities mixed with strangeness and unease.

COVIDiary: Masked and On Foot

One thing I've been doing during the pandemic is walking for miles. Here are some of the highlights:

The 42nd Street branch of the New York Public Library

A small park near the American Museum of Natural History

Week in Seven Words #521

This covers the week of 1/12/20 - 1/18/20.

cheerless
Gray streets dusted with litter. A chain store here and there, lots of chain link fencing, and some windowless concrete walls.

convolution

I almost flub one part of the coding test by overthinking things, making the questions more complicated than they are. Instead of looking at the simplest explanation for what they mean, I interpret them as a set of trick questions. 

drowsy
A sleepy walk, early when it's still dark. It seems like the only other people outside are the ones walking their dogs before work.

interconnected

Reading a memoir, I notice that the author speaks of going it alone but at the same time keeps mentioning people – family, friends, mentors, colleagues – who helped out along the way. There was no "going it alone." Sure, there was hard work, individual effort. But the support, encouragement, and connections were ever present.

provisions
The basement food pantry has shelves of beans, canned meat, packets of tuna and pink salmon, canned vegetables and fruits, and plastic bags bulging with bread. Some of the bags are collecting moisture. Some of the bread is stale. A delivery of food arrives through a chute propped up under an opening high in the wall. Boxes of food tumble down the chute and skid across a long table.

tidewater
Waves of sadness come over me, pouring over and through me.

upchuck
A pleasant dinner followed by the unpleasantness of a stomach bug.

Week in Seven Words #509

This covers the week of 10/20/19 - 10/26/19.

campus
Her campus is embedded into a hillside. She leads us up and down flights of stairs and shows us her favorite corners, like a nook in the library or a bench on a quiet lawn. In different corners, lemon, grapefruit, and olive trees grow.

citadel
A golden light has settled on the hill. On the remnants of a fortress, a chunky, plastic playground has sprung up.

colliding
I walk among peach-colored blossoms, and geese waggling their butts, and cats dozing in high grass. A booming noise, like the sound of car meeting concrete, ruptures the afternoon. It turns out not to be car-on-concrete, but one car glancing against the other, with thankfully no one hurt, though one adult is shouting and a baby is wailing.

illuminating
The sun presses like a warm hand on my arm and head. When the pressure gets to be too much, I find refuge in the scented shade of the garden. Later, we slip into the museum, which is laid out brilliantly, especially its archaeology wing. From room to room, with detours into adjacent civilizations, it's easy to follow the historical timeline.

purity
Parts of the day are marked by clean air, and clean, sharp flavors and scents. In the morning, we're in a forest with evergreens, and the purity of the air is stunning. Later in the day, I drink a rich, foamy, tart, sweet juice of pomegranate and red apple. Towards evening, we stop in a shaded yard. The air is cool, and the flowers spray from the shrubbery as from a fountain.

share
Dinner is served on many small plates, which we pass from one person to another while helping ourselves to dollops. The conversation gushes along, and into it we pack many missed conversations from over the years. Afterwards, we walk along broad, well-lit, empty streets.

whisking
The ceiling fan in the bedroom whisks air over me cool as milk.

Week in Seven Words #502

With these Weeks in Seven Words posts, I'm still catching up to the current week... and it's eerie to see the contrast between life then and now (virtually empty Times Square, for instance, and going to a restaurant).

automatic
She opens the door, receives the gift, and closes the door after a bland thanks that says nothing.

cityscape
We walk up 7th Avenue, the lights of Times Square tiring our eyes, before we switch to 6th Avenue. Homeless people are folded under scaffolding.

consumers
When we arrive at the restaurant, it's empty. At one table, three workers are on their phones. One of them springs up to take our orders, which we take with us to a round green table several blocks away by a massive library.

denying
If I deny my own past, if I pretend that I was wiser than I was, then I also deny how I've matured.

earworm
"La, la, la, la... la, la, la, la... Elmo's song... La, la, la, la.... la, la, la, la... Elmo's song..." The toddler keeps squeezing the doll, bringing forth new bursts of Elmo's song. More Elmo's song. Elmo loves singing.

lunch
The restaurant is still a small cube where people are crushed elbow-to-elbow at the counter. But they've broadened their menu. I pick a salad with barbecue chicken and tortilla strips and find a bench in a nearby park outside of a museum. "Enjoy," says a guard, eyeing the salad bowl with unmasked appreciation.

patchily
She tries to hide by ducking behind her backpack and slipping on a pair of shades. It's like when a younger kid plays hide-and-seek by sticking the top half of their body under a bed but leaving their legs exposed.

Week in Seven Words #494

cooling
The branches are flapping in a strong wind, as if the trees are fanning themselves.

employing
The kids are inexperienced executives; the parents are zealous secretaries and social directors.

evacuations
The male and female hikers break up to urinate in the woods. They're yards apart, forming protective circles around each pee-er.

fitness
Because the elevators aren't working, the stairwell echoes with dreadful gasps.

head-on
Unresolved trauma will ruin your life, she says.

old-fashioned
Their home is Colonial style with a broad, pale face. An American flag is draped over the porch railing. The front door opens to small rooms stuffed with comfortable furniture. Rectangles of light cast by the windows fall short of the photos on the shelves and walls.

outage
Aside from a radio blatting from behind a door, the hallway is silent. Shadows are ganging up on the feeble emergency lights.

Week in Seven Words #492

bouts
He makes his wrestler figurines tussle in the grass. When called indoors, he leaves them propped against a lamppost to rest until the next match.

dusky
We walk along the river right after sunset. The buildings blush slightly before going pale in the dark.

fortify
Outside in the dusk I watch fireflies and listen to crickets while thinking, "Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst."

purslane
A weed that has overrun the garden beds is very nutritional. It's amazing how something dismissed as a pest can contain more nutrients than the vegetables it's supplanting.

reproduced
The women all look similar: long, wavy-haired wigs, super high heels, thin figures, babies hanging around them and on them.

snarly
For the entire subway ride, she speaks to her kids in threats. ("I'll slap the sh*t out of you," she snarls at one point.)

teenager
He squirms in the photos, grins while dancing with his friends, and delivers a speech in a dogged way, as a commitment made and seen through.

Week in Seven Words #479

bared
It's a bleak, grand landscape of bare earth and massive rocks.

dulled
The bookstore is underwhelming, basically a shrunken Barnes & Noble with a selection watered down to what's most trendy. One of the things I like about bookstores is coming across a book I wouldn't have known about otherwise; that isn't likely to happen here.

intoxicant
A teenaged boy plucks a bud from a magnolia tree. "Is this opium?" he asks his friend. An old lady, walking past them, snorts with laughter. She tells them to come back in a couple of weeks, when the beautiful opium will be in bloom. ("But is it really opium?" he asks. She shakes her head and explains that no, it really isn't.)

sunshine
They've turned a part of the park into a meadow with mulch paths. The long grass is soaked in sunshine.

surface
Around the rock clusters, the stream looks like a ripply diamond-paned window.

trifle
A blister is ballooning on my pinky toe, but I don't mind so much, because it's good to be hiking.

uses
She complains how he's glommed onto her, and how he won't stop talking, but she has no problem using him to carry her coat, camera, or backpack as the need arises.

Week in Seven Words #467

affection
Squeezed into a seat on the subway, a young girl hugs her younger brother on her lap and kisses him repeatedly on the back of the head.

coloring
She soaks her feet in a foot bath with a bath bomb that dyes her legs faintly blue.

idly
The boats on the pier are massive and idle. A gangplank has extended from one of them but no one walks on it. It's a drowsy day.

massively
The massive clouds make the buildings by the harbor look small and brittle.

posture
Asleep in his seat, he has bent forward so much, his face is parallel to the floor.

security
Gates and guards and more gates around an ominous complex that makes us nervous just going near it, as if there's an unseen line we can't cross unless we want to fall under suspicion.

streets
We walk on streets that are chiseled like diamonds, the glass buildings cut in spectacular shapes. We also walk on streets that are narrow and made narrower by heaps of garbage bags.

Week in Seven Words #460

assumption
I mention a recent interest I've taken in plants, and he mistakenly assumes that I'm talking about cannabis.

enactment
Now that it's her turn to talk, she doesn't want to stop. She steers the conversation towards animals and how she can't resist rescuing them. Her body shifts and contorts through her monologue, until you can see her seizing the puppies from the box where they've been abandoned and clutching them to her chest.

finely
An evening of yellow roses, candle light, and pleasant conversation.

logo
Walking home at night, I spot the Microsoft logo reflected off the glass of a church door.

proffer
The pale flowers have sprung from a crack in the pavement, as if the sidewalk is offering them up gallantly to anyone passing by, anyone who cares to notice.

ragbag
We're an odd assortment, like the lint and leftovers in the pocket of the world.

temper
"Get to them before they get to you," he says. Out of context, the words sound sinister. But he's talking about setting the tone of a conversation or any social encounter. From the start, he says, be forthright, courteous, and, if it comes naturally to you, crack a joke. Disarm another person's irritable mood or complaints, right at the beginning.

Week in Seven Words #457

differentiation
The advice you give someone may have worked for you, but won't work for them. They don't have to live your choices.

expressive
Some trees look like they have eyes, mouths, and, at times, whole faces imprinted on the bark. On one tree, what looks like multiple faces are emerging, their expressions stunned.

guarding
One motif that stands out in our walk: aggressive yellow jackets who are territorial about public garbage cans.

gullet
He eats out of a tub of ice cream while watching his favorite basketball team lose.

ocular
Walking along with two heavy grocery bags and one eye scrunched shut, after something has lodged against my eyeball on a windy day.

precarious
Holding the wine glass over my head as the kids kick a soccer ball around the room.

sensory
She prepares a strange tangerine tea. It smells good but tastes like a bitter oil.