Time stopped three days ago for the families of 29 coal miners caught up in the explosion at Pike River Coal mine and all they want now is for their loved ones to come home.
But last night a shower of rain left the ribbons drooping, and the miners' families went to bed for a third night, still waiting.
What was hope for any word that someone might have survived Friday's blast is now wavering between grief and hope.
It is quiet in Greymouth, as time passes.
It is not unusual to see people in the streets in tears, or clinging to each other for support.
At the supermarket, the mine is all they talk about.
Groups of women tell each other how sick they feel, for the miners, for the families and to ask each other when the rescuers are ever going to go in.
Any laughter is muted and nervous.
Everyone knows someone down the mine and everyone is keen for news.
In the cafes, people are glued to their newspapers and news bulletins can be heard drifting from cars parked on the side of the street.
By yesterday, the waiting was getting to everyone.
As the hours without contact passed, tensions increased among the families waiting without news, between the massed media and those leading the search and rescue operation, between the media and the locals, and among the would-be rescuers, unable to go in to find their brothers until the gas clears.
The community is wrapping around itself, protecting its own, making sure everyone is looked after.
When there is something to say, they will say it.
In the meantime, they will go to bed and lie awake another night.
