None of this is in any way a reference to anything Our Premier or Government had said or done – more my response to the sense of foreboding which had hung over us like static in the air…

Virginia Trioli’s tweet really hit the mark. It is hard to describe our feelings, as we emerge from this lengthy lockdown.

Perhaps this appears overly dramatic. Yet I choose to use war analogies nonetheless.

On the first day we were told that we would be under curfew, I had half expected to poke my nose out the door, to discover tanks lumbering noisily down our streets. My son had gone for one last fishing trip, whilst we were still allowed. As we got within an hour or so of our first evening curfew, I had peeked out the door to check whether I could see my son shambling, rod in hand, up the street. Instead I was met by a security guard.

The street was empty and our eyes had locked immediately. To my relief he was smiling, so I decided I probably wasn’t going to be greeted with a submachine gun. His kind words had encouraged this fussy mother.

Sounds ridiculous now but some of the images on television had looked ominous.

I had told the guard I was concerned about my son returning from his fishing trip on time. He had reassured me that he would be fine, as I had  looked anxiously for tanks.😄 (Funny now but not so much then) My son had returned somewhat downcast (as the fish had managed to elude him) a few minutes later – fortunately well before lockdown.

For me, the reason I feel a little shell-shocked, is not so much what happened during lockdown, but coming to terms with what could have happened. I think we all eventually realised the stakes were high. The sound of ambulances can tend to snap you out of complacency. Suddenly it had all felt very immediate. This dreadful scourge (COVID-19)had seemed to be poking fun at us – teasing us, before we became lunch..

I made a phonecall today. I recognised quickly the person on the end was not from our state. There is a tone we seem to automatically adopt with each other. Speaking to somebody from interstate was almost like the final scene from ‘Lord of The Flies.’ The one where the boys are chasing Ralph on the beach and are about to kill him, when a ship appears to rescue them. The captain (or person from interstate) has no idea of the horrific drama which had been unfolding.

Oblivious the ship’s captain had smiled and referenced their murderous pursuit which he had interrupted as,

“fun and games.

Whilst lockdown has been challenging, the reward of having almost completely driven the virus from our state, has made it worthwhile.

Thank you everybody,😁

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