Like a chrysalis metamorphosing from a cocoon, business and activities are tentatively emerging from lockdown, looking very changed from the original.
Signs are appearing everywhere. Like the song says, “Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?”
It strikes me sign-making is one of the economies to benefit from CoronaVirus.
Even our beach has sparkly new ones.
The beach was moody, and the waves were rough the other day . . .
. . . and on yesterday’s walk, I found this big fat jelly blubber washed ashore. It had attracted the attention of a dog that was no longer in the vicinity.
After my walk, I took the lift to our fifth floor apartment. Elevator is overloaded, a remote voice announced. That’s a bit harsh, I thought. I haven’t been cooking, that much. Then I realised it must have been the kangaroo in the lift with me.
Whoever designed this sign has never seen a fully-grown male eastern grey (Macropus giganteus giganteus). I’m glad I wasn’t the one who had to push him into the lift.