Cold, cold morning air cut through by brilliant sunshine. Zadie and I took a walk around the world’s smallest lake, which is not too far from our house. The good folk of Lilydale were out early, pushing prams, walking with dogs, jogging diligently around the wide gravel paths that surround the water. The ice cream van and the coffee truck had pulled up when we were leaving, and families with young children were already colonising the playground and barbecue areas. It’s going to a busy holiday day at the lake. So grateful for these simple pleasures, but it is a day that is shadowed by war and all it’s myths, so there is always a feeling of some sadness as well.