for our district is held in the little memorial park about six blocks from our house. It is not something I attend but, since my teens, I have made a habit of being up at dawn on ANZAC Day. Whatever else I am doing that day I make time to give some thought to the meaning of the day.
For the past few years I have been able to stand on our small front lawn and listen to the faint sounds of the hymns.
Last year I was joined by a man walking a dog. He stopped and opened his mouth and then shut it again and just stood there. The dog sat quietly at his side. When the Last Post had been played he went silently on.
Once in a while he passes when I am picking up the papers. This morning he was there. He stopped. The dog stopped. As we heard the faint sound of the last hymn two more front doors opposite us opened and the owners came out.
I know one of them goes jogging about that time. The other goes to work. This morning they came across the road and just stood there. When the Last Post had been played the jogger left silently. The worker went back into the house. The man with the dog smiled at me as if to say, "I knew you would be here" and walked on.
Nobody said anything - and yet we had probably said everything there was to say.