Love in the Time of COVID

The very first time I heard Drew Holcombe’s “End of the World” song, the windows were down on my silver soccer mom Subaru and my daughter’s hair was caught in the breeze as she looked out over the western North Carolina mountains from one of those epic breaks in the trees along the Blue Ridge Parkway as it winds its way above Boone. Because COVID-19 had recently infected a bunch of chicken processing plant employees in the neighboring county there was a sense in which the end of the world had finally reached Boone. Then there were the murder hornets. And driving on a ridge line felt like driving at the edge of the world. End of the world at the edge of the world and listening to Drew Holcombe we were returning from a short trail run in the High Country where we moved a few years ago.