Now, I know this is not for everyone. Something tells me you may need to be old enough to have grandchildren to be in this zone. But, in a strange sort of way, I’m loving being back in lockdown.
I’m probably taking some poetic licence in so saying, but walking down the nearly deserted streets of South Fremantle on Saturday afternoon and feeling the quiet in the air, I experienced this great sense of comfort, of calm. I found myself back in that equally strange, comforting and calm place – the lockdown of a year ago!
As soon as lockdown comes, formal obligations go out the window. Meetings are cancelled. Appointments are put on hold. Relatives spoken to by phone only. In their place, the garden is all I need. Not so much as a place of refuge, but of complete and utter relaxation. A place to snooze, read, eat, drink.
And I’ve found in lockdown the morning coffee takes longer, and tastes better. The chat over the front fence during the morning, with passing masked women and men I don’t recognise at first, are slow, informed and warm.
I don’t even mind watching the footy on the TV, rather than at the game – so long as Freo wins!
If I must, a trip to the shop for essentials can quickly be fitted in.
But other than that, not much.
In many ways, I start to think – I don’t want lockdown to end.
But then the phone buzzes again and I gather the grandchildren, and their parents, aren’t sharing the same moments in the same way.
Oh well.
Back to whatever reality now is!
