Many of us do. Brood. A sort of a soft grieving I feel deep in my core. For the planet, for little furry lives, for the air I cannot breathe in the city I come from, it’s that dirty. It really hits me hard when I watch a nature documentary- a solitary polar bear paddling in an immense ocean, rain forests being decimated, famines and garbage heaps. We did this. Is there any going back? We have ushered in the age of the virus. CNN rattling off numbers of covid deaths every minute and I sit stunned, paralyzed. It’s then that I feel unanchored, forsaken by the gods I didn’t believe in anyways, and it feels like it’s the beginning of the end of life as we knew it.