Sheltering in Place: My Personal Take
/“Shelter in Place.”
These are the last official instructions given by the U.S. government before an Electro-Magnetic Pulse attack darkens the North American continent. “Go home and prepare as though for a blizzard, hurricane, pandemic or…” But there is no further guidance. Prepare for what?
In my debut novel, this is the situation that propels Aurora to her off-grid cabin on the edge of the George Washington National Forest and eventually to a hut, miles into the woods, seemingly the safest place left. Find a shelter and stay there. Shelter in Place.
Shelter in Place was conceived and drafted before the Covid pandemic hatched and hurled itself around the world, changing forever our sense of personal safety and turning the simplest errand into a quest for survival. Don’t go out. It’s dangerous.
But for many people, myself included, “out” was the place we felt safest. Not out at Walmart or a restaurant, but out in fresh air that we hoped would disperse virus droplets and keep us safe. Out where other people were scarce. If we gathered at all, it was on decks and patios with well-spaced chairs and strong fans blowing. We brought our own cups and cutlery to picnics and didn’t share serving utensils. Or we camped, braving gas stations along the way for the opportunity to be farther and farther away from the risk of others, sheltering in the remotest of places.
As it came time to think about a theme for this web site, my thoughts turned toward my wayfaring lifestyle. Since the early 2000s and my first rafting trip through the Grand Canyon, I have sought opportunities to explore new places. I bought backpacking gear and section hiked hundreds of miles of the Appalachian Trail, kayaked on the New River and rafted on the Middle Fork of the Salmon and the Gauley. I camped on Cedar Mesa, in National Parks, in the southern Rockies, and near Native American ruins. I bought a second home in Flagstaff, Arizona, just to be near more unsettled places.
So why didn’t I choose a theme that reflects my unapologetically unrooted lifestyle? I did. I thought deeply about why I am always on the move, always seeking new places, and the answer was simple. For me “sheltering in place” doesn’t mean finding a single safe place and staying there, hunkered down, defenses raised, as Aurora is compelled to do in the novel. It is the act of finding peace and solace in all the special places I’ve discovered, like the floor of the Grand Canyon with the early sun spotlighting the high rims of the canyon walls. Or scrambling up steep slickrock to marvel at remnants of Ancestral Puebloan dwellings. Or merely sitting on a camp chair at the edge of the woods, watching the fireflies multiply at dusk. So, I feel that I have spent the majority of my life, indeed, sheltering in place. But, at the same time, I feel that I have only just begun.
