At 8pm each night for months now, it’s time for the howl. I’m not sure if there is supposed to be a meaning, like “we support all of you hospital workers” or if it is just to let our neighbors know that we are still here.

When I step outside – always on the deck with a view of the hills and the water – I hear a stranger in the distance “ow, ow, owwwww.” So I respond “ow, ow, owwwww, ow, ow” which means I hear you and I raise you two. I get a response back “ow, ow, owwwww,ow, ow, owwwwww” which signals the end of the exchange – that is enough of a dialog for me.

From the wharf, one or two of the tankers or tugs joins in with a toot of a fog horn. In my mind I picture a monstrous whale breaching the water and letting out a deep moan.

I go back inside and MA tells me to”stop with your antics.” She refers to activities that I do that she wouldn’t do as my “antics.” I inform her that I was engaged in “community relations,” not antics.

One night we were out on the deck, probably had just finished dinner at the high table, overlooking the Bay, when the howling began. I was surprised that I convinced her to join in. She let out one long howl and we both started laughing.

“There! Doesn’t that make you feel better about everything?”

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