We asked readers to tell us about the walks they are taking, what they see on their travels and how they feel as they cover old ground or explore new paths.
They wrote of stepping outside of their homes, outside of their deepening anxieties, outside of the sense that time is now measured against job losses, infections and death. They told us about waving to train conductors, like a child; about a flower’s flash of color and its scent on the breeze, filtered through the fabric of a mask; and about the realization “that there are some things that survive, and that those things can be counted on to bring peace.”
Our photographers took walks of their own to translate these sentiments into images.
‘Sometimes the city is like a dreamy, slowed-down version of itself.’
When I walk around…