Documenting the Pandemic (2020)
Monday, March 16, 2020, marked the first day of our state’s stay-at-home orders. On that day, not knowing how long any of it would last, I decided to take at least one photo each day to document life during the evolving pandemic. I had no idea on that day that those orders would stay in place for just about 3 months.
At the end of each of those 13 weeks, I posted those photos with brief commentary onto this blog. Little did I know that those weekly posts would 1) become 13 weeks’ worth of posts and 2) serve as an artifact of those uncertain days. I eventually archived the weekly posts and made them inactive on this site; five years have passed since I wrote those posts, and the world seems so very different now. I’m holding those posts close to me now, guarding the fears and anxieties conveyed in each. Perhaps I will one day re-enable the pages, but not now. Not yet.
Each week, I compiled a selection of the week’s photos in a collage to use as the post’s thumbnail. Below are those composite images—each one my attempt to capture daily life during the pandemic.
Week 1: March 16–22
Week 2: March 23–29, 2020
Week 3: March 30–April 5, 2020
Week 4: April 6–12, 2020
Week 5: April 13–19, 2020
Week 6: April 20–27, 2020
Week 7: April 27–May 3, 2020
Week 8: May 4–10, 2020
Week 9: May 11–17, 2020
Week 10: May 18–24, 2020
Week 11: May 25–31, 2020
Week 12: June 1–7, 2020
Week 13 (and a day): June 8–15, 2020
June 15, 2020:
Ninety-two days of sheltering at home. In those 92 days, New Hampshire has had 5,345 cases of COVID-19; 320 have died. In that same period, 92 days, there have been more than TWO MILLION cases of COVID-19; more than 110,000 have died. Those are staggering numbers. Those numbers represent loss, grief, and mourning on a scale that’s incomprehensible to me. These numbers will, no doubt, continue to climb—even after states’ guidelines relax a bit and states “open up.” For now and the foreseeable future, G and I will continue to do our part—for our own health and the health of those around us and, most importantly, those we love. Life is too damn short—and too damn precious. I’m not about to squander more time. I feel like I’ve done that too much already; if the pandemic has helped clarify life and what matters and taught me anything, it’s that.
Looking back on these images, I’m so very grateful. I see days of uncertainty and worry, loneliness and beauty, all captured through images taken during countless puzzles and board games and walks on the coast and through quiet seacoast neighborhoods. I sought comfort in baking near-weekly loaves of banana bread and in joining thousands of others online for virtual concerts of the Indigo Girls. Through it all, I tried to stop time. One image at a time.