I live in New York. But last week my fiancée and xemphim18 trungquocI decided we'd isolate outside of the city.

We retreated to a home in a rural area, instead of cooping ourselves inside of our lovely, but small, one-bedroom apartment. (We're also taking the necessary precaution of not interacting with anyone for quite some time, since we left a high-risk area.)

It's beautiful here. I'm writing this on a Friday and the sun is shining. It's warm. Earlier, I walked (alone) to a dock (far away from anyone) and watched the slowly rippling water lap against the shore. Across the bay, lonely, small towns stood silent.

It was beautiful. And I got really sad.

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For much of the U.S., the weather is starting to turn. The nation is also just beginning a long, drawn-out fight against the coronavirus — a deadly enemy best fought, at least for now, by locking yourself up indoors.

To be clear, I'm doing that, beyond solitary jogs and walks. And to be clear, we are still allowed outside, just apart from one another.

But man. I'm still seeing some folks posting online about looking forward to springtime and I just don't get it. Seriously, lots of people are posting happily about spring coming. Maybe I'm too informed. I'm well aware we're up against COVID-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus, for the long haul. It could be many, many months before things are even half-normal.

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I think of spring. I think of summer. And I think of my favorite things I won't be able to do.

Go to the beach? No.

Pick-up basketball at the park? No chance.

Barbecue with friends? Nope.

I'm not the only pessimist in this.

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I understand the absolute necessity of social distancing. I encourage it. Unless things change drastically, I should not be doing my favorite activities. We need to do everything we can to slow down the spread of the coronavirus.

But beyond the looming fear of the virus — a scary, anxiety-inducing thing — the small losses in our lives have begun to sting. The thought of not being able to enjoy nice weather, to move freely in the sun with loved ones — it is a real loss. And on the first beautiful day in quarantine, I felt that loss acutely.

It's one of many small, sad realities we'll face amid the coronavirus crisis. We'll all feel these small losses that will accompany the other, large, world-shaking losses the virus is certain to bring.

These small things will pile up. The birthdays uncelebrated. The laughs not had. The sunshine barely felt.

When it's summer in New York, I love to ride the ferry out to Rockaway Beach in Queens. The line to get on the boat is always packed. (Nonstarter with the virus). The ferry is always wall-to-wall. (Ditto.) The sandy shoreline overflows with swimsuited bodies. (Sensing a pattern?) And my favorite bar down there, one that's right on the water, attracts more customers than you can imagine.

The weather is turning. Soon enough, the heat will hit and my brain will think it's time to take the ferry to the beach. Maybe we'll be lucky and the worst of the crisis is past us by then. Most likely not. Even the Olympics, scheduled to kick-off in July, have been pushed backa year.

But hey, at least we've got FaceTime and Zoom. Maybe a virtual barbecue? Maybe I can set my background to the shoreline.

It's better than nothing. And it sure beats letting the virus spread unchecked.