Square 1 (Pandemic) Mar25

Serviceable again was the old laconic greeting favoured by the earlier generation, those tall, spare Russell Drysdale figures that had endured into the postwar years, with their Gladstone bags hanging from their arms, or carried between upturned bicycle handlebars. Wordless and minuscule, without the hats might not have been discernible at all. Back then they had their own reasons for that particular form of exchange, just as we now find it fit for purpose again. What was there to say after all, in that earlier time, and now too? There were no words. Putting pen to paper was similar, a little metaphorical doffing of cap about as far as one could reasonably stretch it. After the lockdowns and separation deployed in passing on the bike was understandable, but it was also more and more common on footpaths too, from behind the masks and even naked. Earlier, what acknowledgement of any kind had there been on these streets.