Our very last event before the pandemic arrived, back at the start of March, was in Washington Square Park. We were all innocent then. There were thousands of people in the park, all clustered close, no one taking precautions. Precautions against what?

But returning to Washington Square for the first time since the lockdown was a very different experience. We kept our group to half a dozen people and the space around us was emptier, too. And if you look closely you might spot something different about what we were wearing.

It feels strange to bare your breasts but cover your mouth — a peculiar inversion of the ordinary. Caution tinged with fear. We all want to stay healthy, and to keep our friends and families healthy, and to keep total strangers healthy too.

And yet…the ice has started to thaw in the arctic summer of 2020. New York, once the disease’s epicenter, has gotten infection rates to a level low enough that, especially outdoors, your odds of contracting Covid are pretty remote. And the fact is, you do sometimes have to eat; you sometimes have to drink. So after a time, with a hint of the embarrassment other people might feel about exposing their nipples, we slid our masks down. They were never far away, and maybe they weren’t off for so very long, but they did come off.

And the results were joyous.

It was delicious to see other people, to be outside our apartments, to breathe fresh air.

Of course, as our tree-lined surroundings might suggest, we’re not out of the woods yet. But we’re hopeful. And after so many months of grim statistics and isolation? A little taste of hope feels awfully good.