Anzac weekend has always been a time for thinking about our country and during this one, in the quiet that has fallen during lockdown, we can contemplate a new kind â€¦
'My patience, never a very strong part of my character, is being stretched a bit so thinking of something else is preferable to throwing all the cups on the floor.'
'I took a walk Easter Friday. Looked out for you everywhere. The churches are down at the moment. All I have is the beach.'
'In an ideal world the physical lives we build would speak to the past, but the truth is New Zealanders silence it, building their social and industrial histories literally on top of Māori.'
'It feels like there is an inner circle of walking that I can no longer break into, some pleasure I have become too stupid to feel. Maybe it’s the internet’s fault.'
'It is sobering watching what a country can do if it wants to. Having been told for so long that nothing is possible. These are strange times down the back of the bus, John.'
'Yes, it's endearing that the PM said that the Easter Bunny is an essential service but I wondered how many kids had a hope in hell of seeing three good meals a day let alone a chocolate egg.'
'Paint is peeling from the old truck workshop walls. Some days you can taste rust on the autumn wind, like swallowing iron and blood and pollen.'
Today, writer and doctor Glenn Colquhoun, with the second of his Letters to Hone Tūwhare and his Travelling Band of Constant Companions.
On our best days, time’s passing felt like a melody, embracing every beat and delighting in every pause. But on our worst days time was a cacophony.