Hibernating

Lockdown: Day Seven

Mood: It will be better after a walk

I found this scene in the city yesterday as I went to collect my mail.

What is normally an hour round trip to collect the mail, with a third of that time trying to find a park, took just over half an hour. 

The streets are empty. And rightly so. We're in lockdown. People are heeding the warning. Allegedly this D-Variant COVID is far more virulent than other strains.  But collecting your mail once a week is a necessary evil, and being one of the invisible, mask-wearing, middle-aged women, who nobody gives a toss about, a quick trip in is going to harm nobody (It's also in my five kilometre, soon to be ten kilometre radius, so ner....)

The police were practicing their traffic hand signals on the corner of Queen and Bourke Streets. Not much traffic there to run them over. Good for the newbies. 

I found a park just around the corner near the post office. For a change I didn't have to beg the Parking Fairy for help. 

I was in and out in five minutes, stopping for a quick chat with Tom the postie and grabbing an egg and bacon roll from a nearby cafe on the way back to the car (Which was magnificent, toasted up in my new Kmart issue, $19 sandwich press.)

But unlike the last big lockdown, the city doesn't feel dead. 

It's not a strange sight anymore, this empty city. 

I prefer to think the city is hibernating. Everything is shut down for a reason. Life goes on around the place, but it's at a quieter, necessary pace. 

The trains and trams are still running. 

The coffee shop guys is ready with a quick smile and a chat. 

There is a wonder in driving through an empty city - once described by Catherine Deveny as being like of Good Friday at 5 am. 

But some things remain the same. 

Cyclists remain annoying. 

They're doing road and building works all around. 

There are a few people, inhabitants, city dwellers, out on their walks, with or without dogs. 

It just feels different this time. 

We know we can come back from this. 

Today's Song: