Department of Self-Centered Silver Linings: Publishing in the Time of COVID19

Pointillisme: blurry new leaves through the rain from Le Select in Montparnasse

Often enough, I've complained about the long long times some editors need to review submissions. I try to be empathic and understanding:  I know (I hope) they have rich and full lives, and that editing a poetry journal is very much a side hustle; I appreciate the devotion to poetry; I try not to be too put out when they can't manage a form email to notify me that they didn't want my poems. Quarantine / house arrest is having one unexpected benefit, though. Apparently, reading backed-up submissions is less aversive than housework. I have received several verdicts on batches of poems, much more swiftly than I had been led to expect. It's disorienting! It's confusing! It's really nice!! It doesn't hurt that there are some acceptances in there too.

And to think that we saw it on Pasqual Street!

Before we were asked to do social isolation, before we were asked to limit trips to essentials, before we were told to stay home, a friend and I visited the Huntington Gardens, which are very close to the Los Angeles Arboretum. The Arboretum is home to a whole lotta peafowl. They come and beg if you're having a picnic. If there's a concert performance, they sing along, especially with the women (a peacock's cry sounds like someone's yelling "HELP!"). And, they visit the neighbors. As we drove back to my friend's home, we spotted about 15 in someone's front yard. And we witnessed the above spectacle. Note the slant and scrabble of their legs as they corner.