In early morning I wake to see the dawn through my bedroom window and hurry outside. Mist clings to the hills and leaves silver droplets on fences, spiderwebs, leaves. I hurry to capture it before my day begins. A moment of quiet.
It is bitter-sweet. I love the view from my back garden - soon to be ex-backgarden - but we've been told we have to leave. It's understandable - four kids, dog, cats - are hard wearing on a house, add a few months of learning from home and yes, I understand the landlords point of view, we're not the best tenants.
But having to pack up now and find somewhere new, when we're all in lockdown, when my Beloved is working crazy, stressful hours, when for most of the day he can't breath properly through his mask, not helping his asthma, is hard.
We're on the final weeks until we have to move, and we still haven't finalised where we're going. My plan b. is to fly home with the kids to Victoria (I'm not very keen on Queensland at the moment) but my Beloved doesn't like that plan as he still has six months of his registrar training to go, and it might mean us being separated until he finishes. I'm not so fond of it myself, but it at least is a solid option.
I tell myself that in three weeks this time of uncertainty will be over, we'll have worked it all out, packed up the house and be settling in somewhere. In the meantime the kids are returning to school after two months at home, and I am enjoying the small moments. The dew on the spiders webs. The sunrises. The fierce kisses of my toddler, the gentler hugs of my six year old.
Everyones lock-down, everyones experience of the-time-of-Cov-id-19 is so different. This is ours. Chaos, uncertainty, beautiful sunrises, an abundance of hugs and kisses, and spiders webs.