Turns out, even when wearing a face mask (okay, so it was a tank top I repurposed), you can still notice the heavenly scent of lilacs when they first start blooming.

This bush was just before the Buffalo Bridge (many of D.C.’s bridges are nicknamed for the animal mascots guarding them). I didn’t finish up work until after 7 tonight, by which time the sun was below the tree line. So instead of wandering in the sun, I walked over to the Mt. Zion/Female Union Band Society cemetery, figuring that there might be fewer people there than on the sidewalk (which aren’t wide enough to accommodate the pedestrian crowding during a time of social distancing). Mostly, that was true, so I got to call my folks surrounded by the long dead, which seemed comforting. (For those of you who’ve actually read it, from that cemetery, you can see across the ravine to the cemetery, still used and gated, where Lincoln in the Bardo takes place.)

I was out walking the other day, trying to get to the house where they have the Barbie party scene out front to see if the Barbies were socially distancing or if they were living a better life than the rest of us. But there were a group of neighbors hanging out in that vicinity, so I couldn’t get close enough for photos. (As best as I could tell from across the street, the Barbies were not socially distancing, but had taken to wearing masks, and at least two seemed to be boxing a coronavirus ball. I’ll ask Rudi to get us photos later.)

But I did get to see who lives near the Barbies. It turns out their neighbors, one block over and tucked into a tree box, are fairies!

No one seemed to be about.

But it also seems like fairies would be much better at social distancing than Barbies.

I’m sure they were just waiting for me to pass by.

Have you discovered anything new and exciting about your neighbors during this time of sheltering in place?

This was rush hour on Rock Creek Parkway today.

You may have heard (honestly, I have no idea what the press outside the region is reporting about this) that people are stupid and still flocked to the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin here in D.C.

Earlier in the week, I had given some thought to riding my bike down to the area and doing a loop of Hains Point (it’s an island adjacent to the Tidal Basin) just to see the blossoms. But the fact that there were enough people down there to be newsworthy made that seem like a stupid idea, because people park at Hains Point and walk over to the Tidal Basin. Or they just drive their car around Hains Point to admire the view from their windshield. But either way, that didn’t seem like it would make social distancing possible unless I fancied going in the dark, which seemed like it would defeat the whole idea of going. So I didn’t.

However, while the Tidal Basin is home to the most famous of D.C.’s cherry trees groupings, we actually have quite a few elsewhere in the city, including at Rose Park, which is just a few blocks away.

So, I biked over there, and while there were people about, they were obviously locals who were mostly sensibly keeping their distance from one another.

So here’s this spring’s batch of cherry blossom shots (they were slightly past prime today and now it’s raining, so this will be the best I can offer).

D.C. — along with nearly every other city — has responded quickly to the threat of the corona virus, announcing on Friday that schools and libraries would close for at least the next two weeks beginning on Monday. Gatherings of more than 250 people have been ceased, which means most cultural activities have shuttered, although bars remain open.

The universities told their students not to return from spring break and most tourists have wisely also remained home, which makes the region, which should be full of school groups pouring over our sidewalks and amiable suburbanites stopping two steps off the top of the metro escalators to consult their maps, oddly empty.

We were told on Thursday to prepare to work at home for the next two days, although most of us expect that that edict will also expand into April.

If Europe is any indication, this is not the end of the restrictions, but the beginning. Cities are particularly vulnerable for any transmissible illness, because we literally live on top of each other, so it won’t surprise me if we eventually build up to a “don’t leave home unless you’re going to the grocery store or for medical assistance” model.

I know these are reasonable precautions given this illness’ rapid spread, but it is not easy. The whole reason to live in a city is because of its amenities. No one actually enjoys living in the tiny amount of real estate allotted to each of us — and my subterranean dwelling is going to get to me fast once they tell us never to set foot outdoors again.

The one good thing that may come of this is that Rudi and I are going to have to do a serious tidy of the apartment. There’s no way we’re going to be able to function here 24 hours a day 7 days a week in its current state.

But at least we have the internet, right?