Years ago, a painting of a pirate ship hung in my daughter’s bedroom. The ship sat on the waters of a ruffled sea. The black spindly masts made stark shadows against the florescent lime-green and yellow moonlight shining on the dark green and indigo water.

I cannot help but wonder as I watch the news and listen to modern soothsayers make predictions concerning the future of this pandemic. “It is only going to get worse,” they say. “We must brace ourselves for the second wave,” they say.

I had a problem here when it came to putting up hay off of my clover field: mad hornets. My clover field has a woods on the south side of it. Along the edge, there were some weeds and brush some hornets started to build a hive in.