July 2021
By Art Cerf
Sunset Behind the Wisconsin River. Wausau, Wis. April 2020. By Nathaniel Cerf
By now, billions of people, indeed, half the world’s population had succumbed to Covid-19a.
A year ago, people got tired of sheltering in place and ignored all the scientific warnings to stay in place and keep social distancing, much to the virus’s delight (if viruses can feel delight.).
Then in the fall, the virus mutated once again and became ten-twenty times more deadly and masks and PPE no longer worked.
Billions died…economies collapsed…governments fell. And of course, half of all the doctors, nurses, healthcare workers and scientists perished, too. There was no vaccine, and it looked like there wouldn’t be one.
On the other hand, skies hadn’t been this clean since farmlands in the 19th century. Rivers ran pollution-free. Animals on the endangered species list made a strong comeback. It was as if Mother Nature was cleansing the planet…of humans.
I walked back to my car, marveling at how I now could see the stars at night and how the earth had changed so. If we survived this plague, would we learn any lessons about protecting the planet? I truly hoped so.
I was headed home and hoped to find an open gas station on the way. So many had closed. Still I only had less than a quarter of a tank full on my Hummer.
