Here on the eastern end of Long Island, New York, where the spring has been cold and rainy. The coronavirus looms over the beautiful

sand beaches. New signs at the ocean, worn would-be beachcomers to wear masks and stay six feet apart as they walk along the shoreline.

With tourist season about to begin, all access to the waterfront may soon be denied.

In this moment of social distancing and reliance on social media,

some fellow writers and I are reverting to an earlier form of communication to letter writing.

We've agreed to create a conversation about our thoughts at this strange moment via chain letter, starting here with me, but moving quickly across the

country and around the world, just as the virus itself is doing.

Thomas Lynch, here in the U.S. in Michigan,

Oquarie-O-Dure in Bavaria, Germany.

Claire Louise Bennett, writes from Galway in Ireland,

Akash Kapoor in Orville, India, and William Fines near Oxford, England.

To start, I'm Dave Asobel and I've been dreaming that the pandemic will end in a resurgence of excitement about science.

I used to often find myself the only person in the room

interested in science, but now research is a regular feature on daily newscasts,

and charismatic individual researchers have a big following.

Every other person I know is suddenly an armchair virologist.

If they can embrace the intricacies of biomedicine, why not other sciences as well?

I think it could happen.

I'm counting on poets to help because they too are enjoying renewed respect in these days of

disease and lockdown as people seek the solace of poetry.

When I was a child in the era of Sputnik, everyone around me

venerated science. I grew up loving science subjects,

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