Thanks to the COVID-19 lockdown, Pat Walsh has re-discovered the street in Melbourne where he's lived for forty years. Sondering like a teddy bear, he's been treated to glimpses into lives, vivid and complex like his own, that have scrolled past on the screen of his front window. His appreciation is a mix of history, anecdote and whimsy, both serious and playful in tone and laced with humour. COVID-affected, he reveals that he innocently imported a Russian virus to North-cote. But then comforts readers by morphing into the sun that, Dylan Thomas style, sends a blessing to his street and its doomed but iconic gum trees.