I was woken by a paw to the boob at 5.30 this morning. Lucifer is a gentle soul. but at 5.30 am, he's looking for his breakfast and he seems to think that snuggling up to my shoulder, purring, sticking a paw into my breast with one claw out for the tamping is a good thing. I don't mind - except for being speared with that one talon. It's quite sweet. He snuggles into my legs as I drift off to sleep. As familiars go, I've lucked out.
By six'o'clock, he's pacing the room, obviously hungry. It's time for me to think about getting up. I need to go for a walk. It's a big day. Work. School. A bit of admin. It all needs to be done.
I rise at 6.30. Feed the cat. Deal with the cat's wharepaku (Maori for toilet - I just like the word). Then I pull on last night's exercise gear, grab my phone and keys and set out for a walk around the suburb. It's a bit late to drive to the Tan track, so Richmond in all it's glory it is.
Walking around at this time of the morning on the last day of the big lock down is calming. There are few people out. The occasional dog walker, next to no cars. It's been great. For the last six weeks I've been able to go out of the driveway without having to wait five minutes to turn into the road. I live on a thoroughfare. There is next to no traffic and fewer people.
You notice things when the streets are this quiet. The whiff of wood smoke from a pot belly stove. The skies are free from air traffic, and the moon is clear in the sky. The last of the stars are thinking about going to bed.
Passing Hector's Deli, it's great to see the lights on. It's somewhere I've been meaning to go as its just around the corner. There's a note on the door. If there is a staff member inside, they're preparing food for charity groups. I give the girl inside a thumbs up and walk on.
You see things you don't normally notice in the emerging daylight. A mural took my eye. Never knew it was there.
7 am now. Turning into Bridge Road, there are a few more signs of life. In normal times, by 7 am, the traffic is flowing but heavy. There are still few cars on the road. The sky is pink in the south, but it's gone from dawn to day. The walkers are out. Walkers with takeaway coffees. People with dogs. There are lots of greyhounds and Maltese arrangements about the place. Some say hello, others don't.
It's good to see some continuity along the road, minor signs of life. Dan Murphy's is being cleaned, the lights are on, the shutters up at the front door. The 24 hour florist, a Richmond stalwart, has a couple of people juggling flowers about the shops. There's a small queue at the McDonalds' drive through. The petrol station has unleaded going for 89.9 cents a litre. Oh, for this to remain.
I walk down to the river and I'm pleasantly surprised that there are few people on the tow path. Maybe I'm before there before the most of the cyclists start their way to work. Maybe the normal cycle crew are working from home as well. It's peaceful down there. The only real noise you notice is the birdsong. You can almost hear the river currents.
Nearing the end of the walk, I get to the bridge on Victoria Street. The trams flying over the bridge sound like aircraft, their infernal rattle breaking the peace.
Cutting through the park, I say hi to Cleo and Erdin who are training clients.
A quick stop in the shopping centre to pick up a coffee and I made my way home, taking the main roads. They don't really need the clearway at the moment. There's plenty of room on the roads at 7.30. Down the side road home I check out the old Vauxhall that's been in the street for years. It's owner, Mark, takes great care of it. It's been restored in the last six months and it's looking amazing.
It's noticing the little joys that I will miss when we go back.
Today's song: Brought to you by the 30 day song challenge.
Day 19: A song that makes you think about life
By six'o'clock, he's pacing the room, obviously hungry. It's time for me to think about getting up. I need to go for a walk. It's a big day. Work. School. A bit of admin. It all needs to be done.
I rise at 6.30. Feed the cat. Deal with the cat's wharepaku (Maori for toilet - I just like the word). Then I pull on last night's exercise gear, grab my phone and keys and set out for a walk around the suburb. It's a bit late to drive to the Tan track, so Richmond in all it's glory it is.
Walking around at this time of the morning on the last day of the big lock down is calming. There are few people out. The occasional dog walker, next to no cars. It's been great. For the last six weeks I've been able to go out of the driveway without having to wait five minutes to turn into the road. I live on a thoroughfare. There is next to no traffic and fewer people.
You notice things when the streets are this quiet. The whiff of wood smoke from a pot belly stove. The skies are free from air traffic, and the moon is clear in the sky. The last of the stars are thinking about going to bed.
Passing Hector's Deli, it's great to see the lights on. It's somewhere I've been meaning to go as its just around the corner. There's a note on the door. If there is a staff member inside, they're preparing food for charity groups. I give the girl inside a thumbs up and walk on.
You see things you don't normally notice in the emerging daylight. A mural took my eye. Never knew it was there.
7 am now. Turning into Bridge Road, there are a few more signs of life. In normal times, by 7 am, the traffic is flowing but heavy. There are still few cars on the road. The sky is pink in the south, but it's gone from dawn to day. The walkers are out. Walkers with takeaway coffees. People with dogs. There are lots of greyhounds and Maltese arrangements about the place. Some say hello, others don't.
It's good to see some continuity along the road, minor signs of life. Dan Murphy's is being cleaned, the lights are on, the shutters up at the front door. The 24 hour florist, a Richmond stalwart, has a couple of people juggling flowers about the shops. There's a small queue at the McDonalds' drive through. The petrol station has unleaded going for 89.9 cents a litre. Oh, for this to remain.
I walk down to the river and I'm pleasantly surprised that there are few people on the tow path. Maybe I'm before there before the most of the cyclists start their way to work. Maybe the normal cycle crew are working from home as well. It's peaceful down there. The only real noise you notice is the birdsong. You can almost hear the river currents.
Nearing the end of the walk, I get to the bridge on Victoria Street. The trams flying over the bridge sound like aircraft, their infernal rattle breaking the peace.
Cutting through the park, I say hi to Cleo and Erdin who are training clients.
A quick stop in the shopping centre to pick up a coffee and I made my way home, taking the main roads. They don't really need the clearway at the moment. There's plenty of room on the roads at 7.30. Down the side road home I check out the old Vauxhall that's been in the street for years. It's owner, Mark, takes great care of it. It's been restored in the last six months and it's looking amazing.
It's noticing the little joys that I will miss when we go back.
Today's song: Brought to you by the 30 day song challenge.
Day 19: A song that makes you think about life
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