A few days ago I shared wine, cheese, and camaraderie with a small group of close friends, and sadly, after five excellent bottles of Côtes du Rhône wine, we said goodbye to one another, knowing we shall not again share company for many weeks, perhaps months. Yesterday my dearest neighbors knocked on the door, carts loaded with suitcases and boxes in tow, to wish me well for the duration of the great pandemic. We air-hugged, and I sadly watched them tromp off to their packed vehicle, abandoning New York City for their country home. As they wandered off, I said, “See you in September, I hope—or whenever things are normal again.”
For some countries—Italy, South Korea, and Singapore for example—the moment of decision and personal preparation has long since passed, and millions of people are stuck in place, watching their epidemic unfold. On the eve of St. Patrick’s Day, the mayor of San Francisco ordered her entire population to “shelter in place” for a few weeks: The window of opportunity to relocate has closed for residents of the Bay Area.
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