Illustration by Alex Castro / The Verge

When I came home from my freshman year of college in March 2020, it was as if I had never experienced spring in Seattle before, even though it was the only place I’d ever called home. I watched the orange bellies of robins I had never stopped to notice. I watched the rhododendron outside my window blush before fading to white. But it’s 2022 now, and there is no longer one pandemic spring — there have been three. Was it last year that we spent Mother’s Day on our patio in the sun, eating and reading and laughing? When did we return to the Great Sedro-Woolley Footrace? And the afternoon we found baby rabbits in our window well? Time has jumbled for everyone, and I am lucky for the slowness I have found at times, especially with my family....

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