I see that more "NYC is dead forever" pieces are making the rounds. I don't want to single any specific one out — I know the author of at least two that have gone quasi-viral.

I don't want to be trite about it. It's not an easy time in New York City, that much is true.

But.

I do want to say this: proclaiming this city dead is boldly shortsighted.

Sure, it's hard not to meet my friends for drinks or meet professional acquaintances for coffee — that was a lot of what my pre-pandemic life looked like when Robbie and I weren't traveling.

And too many of my favorite restaurants and shops have closed permanently, and it's painfully sad to see them go.

But what I see as I ride my bike around the city these past weeks, along with all of the transition and tentativeness, is a lot of striving and seed planting.

Restaurants are building and improving their outdoor seating environments, and customers are enjoying using them. Construction projects were part of a reopening phase two months ago, so for every empty storefront, there's a storefront with workers inside (or outside on a break).

I see more cyclists than I ever have, which is a welcome change that could alter a great deal about the city's accessibility and mobility.

And while we're all a little more confined to the few blocks around us, people are rediscovering their neighborhoods and, more importantly, their neighbors.

One of my neighbors in Hell's Kitchen has been organizing a weekly street cleanup.

A friend in Brooklyn collected the remainders of the farmers market produce and coordinated getting it to a group taking care of distributing food to neighbors who need it.

So yes, some are leaving. But they aren't the people inclined to dig in and make the most of the city, and maybe in the long run, as the city inevitably adapts and recovers and changes just a bit because of those who invest their time, care, and energy, that may be for the best.