Tonight I pulled out my guitar and played it for a while. That should be unremarkable, and it used to be that way, but I hadn’t touched it in months. I couldn’t. All it did was remind me of loss — loss of the gigs I used to play, and the audiences that were no more, and the connections with friends that I made through music.

I love this guitar. I bought it for myself as a 60th birthday present, and although it’s not expensive by acoustic guitar standards, I think it sounds remarkable. But two months after I gave myself that present, the world went to shit, my music went away and the guitar went in a case. It’s mostly stayed there.

But I get my second vaccine Saturday. And I’m supposed to play a gig in May. And I’m hoping others will follow. So out came the guitar. I’ll probably pull the harps out Saturday, and I played a little mandolin around a campfire recently, and maybe I’ll set up a little practice space. It’s about time.