It was so quiet when I got up around 630am this morning. I could hear the smallest of waves lapping at the beach.
That's unusual for a weekday as there is always the distant drone of the cars on the main road, continuous for a good two hours or more as people head into work or school, and the going-to-work-and-school noises in the neighbourhood.
I also heard my neighbour tumbling what sounded like heaps of bottles into his recycle bin. Desperate times ...
Yesterday I was out walking and met my friend Pam who lives over the road. We used to walk together every day and now, if we meet up, we do the 'virus salute' which is to extend our arms straight out to indicate our mutual exclusion zones. The 'don't come any closer' message is clear without being too rude.
Pam is a retired nurse and really good value, a straight shooter and down to earth. Having nursed for over 60 years, and taught new recruits too, she's just about seen it all. We had a brief conversation on the beach.
'All the years I was nursing,' Pam said, 'I never got sick, never picked up anything from a patient apart from one time. I was leaving a ward, did the usual hand sanitizing protocols, but touched the door handle on my way out and got the 'flu. Germs exist on different surfaces for varying lengths of time.'
This is a message we're hearing about petrol pumps: wear gloves, or wipe your hands right away after using a pump handle.
Pam also told me that the police had been around the evening before, cruising our streets, and had gone down to the beach that night to break up a gang of young folk drinking beer down by the public dunny. This was before the shutdown of 1159pm Wednesday night.
Pam and I continued our walk together a short way. She was on the grass verge and I walked down the middle of the street. Quite a refreshing thing to do as there are no cars and you can stroll right down the centre line if you fancy it.
These are extraordinary times..
I'm writing about our