I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing the streets of a usually busy, modern city, look like this.
Monday, 6th April, and the East Road, normally nose to tail traffic...
These days you can see all the way along it.
Once vital, pedestrian crossings have become largely redundant.
There's even an opportunity for starting a new game for the kids - Spot The Car.
(Ok, I know what the virus is doing is far from funny - but humour helps us cope, right?)
Wednesday, 8th April, and although it’s still sad to see so few people in the parks, enjoying the sunshine…
At least the rules on social distancing are largely being respected. In Cambridge, anyway.
Which is just as well. The news says we've got at least a few more weeks of lockdown to come.
And it's not going down well, certainly not on what should be a holiday weekend ahead.
On Thursday, 9th April I spotted something which, for me, sums up how the virus has stopped our way of life in its tracks.
In Cambridge City Centre, it's usually near impossible to find a space to lock up your bike.
These days... no problem. None at all.
Sad to say.
I'm doing as the doctors advise, and trying to keep exercising, even if it can be hard some days to get going.
Because these seem far from motivating times.
But on a run on the morning of 10th April, Good Friday, this made me stop and think -
Cambridge is usually a city of music, with performances across colleges, churches and community centres.
But now it's fallen silent.
All these posters for beautiful events which now won't happen...
I have to admit, I finished my run with tear-blurred eyes.
The sunshine really blessed us on Saturday, 11th April, which helped - even if only for a while, on our one permitted outing of the day for exercise.
It's remarkable how something very familiar disappears from life, and you don't notice it's gone...
Until you spot it again.
A vapour trail from a single passing plane, the first time I've seen one in weeks.
The coronavirus has stretched its insidious tentacles even to the heights of the sky.