Covid Fossils

I’m fascinated by them. They’re largely ignored by most people these days. Like leftovers from a high school football game. Scattered confetti and ticker tape after a lavish celebration. Items that used to hold vast meaning and consequence; but now relinquished to the trash heap of history. Forgotten detritus of a time just barely passed. The ashes of recent history.

I take pictures of them whenever I leave the house ( which is, admittedly, not as often as it used to be – been working from home almost seven years now), especially on vacation. I’m enthralled by them because everybody walks past them without seeing them. Without remembering them. Without reliving the trauma that caused them to be there in the first place. Without remembering the why.

There will come a time in the very near future where these things won’t hold any meaning to a lot of people. These random scars on the establishment. Pock marks on the firmament. They won’t remember the terror or the fear. The stupidly frightening reality that going out to get a sandwich might actually kill a someone you love. They won’t remember lockdowns, and flattening the curve and home school and masks.

But I will.

I take these pictures because someday, to most people they will have little to no meaning whatsoever. Odd shit stains on the underoos of reality. Someday we’ll all look down and try to remember exactly how critical it was to stay arms length away from every other human. And then someday beyond that we’ll all look down, confused, as to why there are the leftovers of stickers on the ground exactly 6 feet apart.

I take these stupid pictures because someday I’d like to tell people why. Why it mattered then. Why it means something now. Why it’s a fossil of time that was terrifying to live through.

Travis
_{another time. another place. another us.}