After a half-day’s climb, scrambling across rivers and around muddy ledges, we came to a clearing. The density of the high jungle gave way to a mountainside covered in butter-green clover.
I love the suggestion of the covert in the word COVID, hidden as it is in every corner of our paranoia.
When the pandemic hit, Herman Portocarero found himself in quarantine at his home in Bahía Dorada near the tip of Spain, just north of Gibraltar. He was separated from his family by the Atlantic Ocean.
In Corona March, I went to the bakery, to the supermarket, around the square, and took photographs.