28 Days Later - Day Two

Day Two dawned bright and sunny. For me, it was mostly a reiteration of day one, pottering around. There was only one youngster hooning around on a bike early in the morning, after that - nothing. No-one was driving around 'having a look', or visiting friends. Neighbors could still be heard nattering over the fence, but they were keeping a respectable distance from each other. People were starting to settle in and take it seriously.
With the traffic on all the side streets now mostly at a standstill, it made the traffic sounds from the three main highways sound even louder.  

Our normally busy street today

Every now and then a solitary person on a dog walking mission could be seen going by. Some I had never seen before, others I knew. With the parks closed, walking the dog around the neighborhood was now the only option for those with medium and larger dogs.

Fortunately Molly is a small dog, and we already have an indoor exercise routine for her, worked out after I sustained an injury to my left foot and wasn't able to take her to the park. I sit on the sofa at the front of the lounge, and throw her ball down the lounge, through the kitchen, and out the back door onto the back porch, hitting the wall of the attached garage. It is a straight, clear path all the way through. She races frantically after the ball, and rushes back with it, eager to have it thrown again. After 20 to 30 minutes of this, she is completely pooped.

By midday, there were howling gales and ominous clouds, and shortly after, torrential rains set in. Late afternoon saw a soggy, mournful cat sitting on the bureau by the front door, waiting for a break in the weather so she could dash back out.

As night fell, I went out into the garden, and noticed immediately that it was much darker than usual. I could actually see stars in sky. I had given up many years ago trying to view the Orionid and Leonid meteor showers. Generally, you can pick out Orion's belt, and a couple of other bright stars, but that is it.
To the southeast over Havelock North, it always looks like a permanent sunrise, with a never-ending sunset to the northwest over Flaxmere, and the flood of light from Hastings central in the middle. When it is cloudy, the bright orange glows spread and merge across the whole sky, bathing the entire city and surrounding area in a perpetual twilight.
Now that there is no nightlife, and businesses can't afford to keep everything lit up like daytime all night long, the stars that long ago vanished, have reappeared.

We will see what tomorrow brings. Goodnight all, stay safe.