Five years ago: lockdowns and quarantines. Time knows no hour.
A suitcase on the sidewalk, Samsonite finish as sunbaked as the desert. Neighborhood sentry. Dreams of future travel.
A sonogram unfurled at a drive-in tailgate party. Three hatchbacks, three sodas, three girls and a baby. Signs of life.
A socially-distanced layover in Philly and I’m heading east for the summer, parents quarantined in separate care homes. The only thing worse than Solitary, my father texts, is returning to Solitary.
A symbol, late August. An empty park; farmer’s market in the distance. Birds rustling in the bushes. Finding hope.




Loved this moment in time Amie. What I remember most is the beautiful birdsong that came into sharp relief in the middle of a lonely summer.
It feels so long ago. I remember documumenting a nearly empty New York Thruway and totally empty grocery store shelfs.