For six months, working from a trestle table in a passageway, I’ve been watching the seasons pass over Richmond’s old heavy industry heartland in Melbourne.
In the beginning, autumn quickly turned to winter and for months now the Australian Knitting Mill chimney that dominates the factories — now warehouse apartments — was cloaked with winter cloud, rain and cold. Most days, by 5pm, it’s been getting dark. Appropriate really.
How cruel then that Sunday, when the AKM chimney was bathed in glorious 19C sun and brilliant spring blue, delivered such devastating gloom.
Sunday was meant to start the final seven-day countdown to a post-stage-four world.
Even in the midst of falling but stubborn infection numbers, we told ourselves life would start returning to a sense of normal from September 14.
We wouldn’t get everything we wanted, of course. Just enough to suggest that September without a grand final at the MCG might have something to offer.
With daily infection numbers refusing to go into free-fall, most of us had given up on large-scale relaxation, and many accepted ongoing restrictions were needed to suppress the virus. But Sunday’s road map extends this journey for months, offering only a fragile promise of a “normal” Christmas. The fact we were grateful our curfew won’t start until 9pm shows just how far under we have sunk.
Imagine if this time last year a premier had told his state they could have an extra hour of free time to enjoy the longer spring and summer days. There would have been a riot in Spring Street.
Many Melburnians live close to shopping strips, like Swan Street or Bridge Road, which are close to me. Across our city, these traditional engine rooms of innovation and fun have long powered the city’s economy.
Yet whether it be in Richmond, Fitzroy, Northcote or Footscray, there is a fear Sunday’s announcement will kill these streets, already on life support.
There’s dozens of pubs within a 5km radius of me. They are more than just watering holes — they are part of a suburb’s culture and spirit. Where you watch your footy team win or lose. They are a link to the past when most were built in the 1890s to 1920s. But how many will be around to host grand-final lunches in 2021?
Wishing your life away is a terrible thing, but since being locked down for a second time in early July, the days and weeks until September 14 couldn’t pass fast enough. Now October 26, or November 23, are our beacons.