I could just hear the faint sound of the Dawn Service

in the distance as I stood there. 
It is perhaps becoming a tradition. People just gather quietly for a few minutes towards the time which will be the end of the ANZAC Dawn Service some distance away.
It is very quiet at that time of the morning. There is no traffic in the surrounding suburban streets. 
The Whirlwind has snuggled in closer to her father, seeking reassurance about something that worries her. The teenage boys are close to their mother and their father has his hand on her shoulder. The couple with the son in the army are there this year. Another woman has wheeled her husband around. He is still in pyjamas and dressing gown and wrapped in a rug but he wanted to come. The Senior Cat isn't dressed either. The young couple have left their front door, about five metres away, to listen for the baby but they have both come out to join the rest of us.
There is a new Pakistani family in the units nearby. Someone told them and they have come out to join us for the last few minutes too.
Nobody says anything. We wait. There is the faintest sound of the hymn, the prayer, and then into the cold, clear morning air the Last Post.
And then we all go away again quietly. 
I know this won't last forever but, while it does, it is good. It is good that we can do it in a silence that speaks for itself.