Six feet

It is how tall I am. How deep you are buried when you die. How far from each other we are supposed to be. It is also the name of an impromptu jazz band that sprung up Thursday afternoon at Green Lake park.

Staying inside on a sunny, 60 degree spring day in Seattle is like telling a butterfly not to come out of its chrysalis. We Pacific northwesterners have endured seven months of dark, rainy and cold weather. We should be finishing our season of isolation. It is with this in mind that I applaud my fellow Pacific northwesterner for doing a great job at staying home and socially distancing.

Blue skies, blooming cherry trees, a rainbow of tulips in every other yard, greet the weary soul that ventured out of their isolation for a brief bit of fresh air. A stroll, a run, a bicycle ride or rollerblading is all we need to help us through the day. The space around us unites us.

Tomorrow the rain may come back. The temperature may go back down to 50 and isolation won’t be difficult to do. We are pros at that. So wear your mask. Grab your sanitizing spray. Because a few of us will be taking turns stepping outside of our chrysalises.