For a while there, it seemed like the world was ending and nothing would ever be the same again. It was March, and things seemed to be going alright. It was an eventful year already, but the pressures of an election year hadn’t quite hit yet, and it was as normal as it could have been. And then everything was upended. COVID-19 was spreading and the whole nation was on lockdown. The streets were empty. Businesses were shuttered. It was quiet and everything smelled like bleach. The apocalypse was, apparently, upon us. And we found ourselves coping in some pretty odd ways.
First came the baking obsession. Stores ran out of flour and everyone was cultivating their very own sourdough starters. I tried my hand at ciabatta and came back with a warm and hearty loaf that was decidedly not ciabatta, but still tasty. Next came the other viral crazes: dancing, songs, recipes, television shows. Then people started crafting, sewing, knitting — anything that brought some sense of analog creativity to very stressful times. Throughout it all though, people kept going on walks.
Walking seemed to be one of the activities with the most longevity throughout quarantine. In the early days, family walks were a way to stay present and active in the uncertainty of a global disaster. Parents everywhere rounded up their children and dogs for daily outings, parroting the benefits of fresh air and exercise in times of strife. When socializing became tentatively present again, my friends and I would meet on opposite sides of the street and walk together, maintaining distance and a lively conversation. Solitary walks too served as a cherished escape from the monotony of being at home. As the car sat idly in the driveway, I’d venture out in the early morning and see how far I could get. Even in the fall as I started college (and apparently a new life) from my bedroom, I went on walks between classes to shake the Zoom-induced headache out of my system.
Something about being under green-leafed trees and clear blue skies gave me an unmatched sense of peace, and a lot of people have found the same throughout the COVID-19 ordeal. In an unimaginably difficult year, these outings have provided a sense of comfort, connection, and serenity. Even now, I find myself going out on walks in Riverside Park to clear my head. This isn’t a habit I had before the pandemic, and in a way, I’m grateful the practice is a part of my life now despite the tragedy of global disaster. And now, as I look back from such a different place than I was at the beginning of this ordeal, the solace provided by simple walks has remained the same.