Visual journalist Mike Scott compiled a diary of images throughout the lockdown. Here are his reflections on what he saw and some of his favourite photographs.
"So, taking pictures is essential, is it?"
This was a question posed to me by a police officer during the first weekend of the level 4 lockdown.
I was photographing him and his colleagues questioning the few people on Hamilton's deserted city-centre streets.
One van-living man, who was approached by the officers, told me he was offered motel accommodation for the lockdown but also warned he could be arrested if seen again on the streets with no valid reason.
Before Covid-19, police threatening the arrest of a citizen for being in a public space would be viewed as authoritarian.
But now, in front of me and my camera, such action was warranted and even welcomed.
This was our new normal and it needed recording. "Yep, taking photographs is essential," I replied.
During the level 4 lockdown, I compiled a visual diary using images taken by Herald photographers and also had the privilege of taking a few shots myself.
When I began the diary, I described it as an odd assignment with an invisible main character. Already we had photos of closed playgrounds, supermarket queues and coronavirus testing stations. Overseas, there were images of ambulances, overrun hospitals and death.
Was that what New Zealand was in for? We know the answer to that now, and we're thankful.
Still, dropping into the level 4 lockdown was a tense, uncertain time for the country as the number of coronavirus cases steeply climbed. And that tension transferred to the way photos were taken, especially in the first two weeks. It was photography from a distance, using larger zoom lenses.
Those were the times we stepped well off the bush track to let people past and warily eyed anyone getting close in the supermarket.
But even in those "distance" photos, humanity emerged. It became clear Kiwis were getting on with life: Putting teddy bears in windows, hiking, biking, walking the dog and exchanging more than the usual pleasantries.
Remember all those cheery words of "hello" and "how are you" to passing strangers? Each one an acknowledgment that we were all experiencing the same crazy situation.
In one photo of a waving walker, you get the sense that we're all in this together.
As social distancing became second nature, the photos became more intimate, a bit less zoomed. These are the images of volunteers making up food rescue packages, a group of elderly sharing a morning cuppa on the street.
Easter came and went with roadblocks and a grandmother giving chocolate eggs and sharing "air hugs" with her grandkids. Anzac Day passed parade-less but the remembrance was far closer to home than ever before.
In a photo taken by Sylvie Whinray of an ambulance leaving St Margaret's Rest Home, a masked teddy bear is riding on the dash. Head bowed, crying perhaps.
A favourite image of mine is Michael Craig's skateboarder in a McDonald's drive-through.
The closed business symbolises the pain the country is feeling but it also shows our ability to adapt. The skater sees the joyful opportunity in a now-empty concrete space, and the photo yells out "don't worry, we've got this".
