The difference between last night and this morning is cars. At 6 am, businesses are closed if they are not Circle K, so dark storefronts don’t bother me. But at 9 pm, Midtown is supposed to be a vibrant, lively neighborhood.
Ironically, it was quieter and emptier at 9 pm than 6 am. Last night when I walked Keely the roads were nearly empty of cars, a few passing us here and there as we circled up 7th to Thomasville Rd. and over to 5th. Restaurants and bars and stores were dark or, if lit up, eerily empty and locked, and there were no people about. It was spooky and weird, and for the first time since I moved here, felt dangerous. During a hurricane watch, you can be sure most folk are keeping out of sight and staying safe indoors, even the criminals, but we aren’t waiting for a hurricane. I was just a lonely old woman out walking my dog. I kept to the main roads.
In contrast, this morning could have been any regular morning at 6 am. Plenty of cars on the road, going to all the usual places people go. People in groups walking around Lake Ella. Was traffic a bit lighter than normal? A bit. But only a bit.
It was a typical foggy morning otherwise. The Groundskeeper, the older white guy who handles the maintenance for the Lake Ella Cottages, was doing some landscape digging around the snocone shop, which has nailed it’s menu to the posts outside the entrance — the better to keep social distance parameters for people ordering take out snocones, I guess? But the cafe that I’m sure has never actually opened is likely not going to now, as most “coming soon” signs have been taken down.
The Groundskeeper, who knows me well after all this time, waved from a distance. The groups of people were easily avoided.
These days I just feel like I’m trading off risks, one danger for another.