Looks like Melbourne’s putting on a beautiful day. From where I sit, looking over the milk froth in my coffee, I see the patterns of light and shade created by the movement of trees and a clear blue sky. Gorgeous.
I do have to venture out today, too. I’m taking Our Girl and T2 to an orthodontist appointment, one that has been postponed since early August when even dentists and similar had to shut down for non-urgent visits. It’ll be nice to be out in the balmy sunshine. Maybe we’ll even catch a glimpse of the city’s former glory.
I can almost feel the tangible movement of the city creaking back to life. It’s groaning under the weight of boredom, loneliness, inactivity. The footpaths that used to bear countless thousands of steps are itching to feel them again. The city buildings that stand near-empty quietly hum, hopeful to catch someone’s attention as if to remind us all they’re still there. Waiting.
Its people, us Melburnians, are also waiting for doors to fly open. Businesses are making announcements about their imminent reopenings. Last night, my hairdressing salon advised over social media they’ll be greeting us in-salon late October. Still, four weeks is a long time to wait when hair is already beyond frightful—I have a tint to cover greys every six weeks and my last appointment was late June or early July. My hair grows fast. Do the maths. I can barely look at myself in the mirror!
Tomorrow, we’ve been advised that the NBN will be interrupted while maintenance is carried out. That’s good, in a way. It’ll get the children off those bloody devices, for a start, and Hubster’s already flagged a bike ride. Wednesdays are a work day for me, but I will probably just make up lost hours on another day so I can join the family in an outside, exercise activity.
Our city is slowly coming back to life, and it feels good.