HELLO, 21

Well hello there, 2021. None of us know quite how to welcome you, given that your predecessor was a bit of a handful. You'll forgive us if we're all a little... wary.

I'm going for hopeful optimism; I think it'll be alright.

Back to work and not too much has changed over the break. There's still the same stuff to do and still the same people who'll be cross if it doesn't get done. We're still working from home, and I'm still feeling disconnected. It's almost been ten months now, and I think I do miss the office.

Meanwhile, the Oxford-AstraZeneca vaccine joins the Pfizer candidate in the rollout. At the same time, the government are clearly struggling to get the new variant under control and it's become clear to everyone that Lockdown 3.0 is on its way. In fact, it was always inevitable, whatever they did about Christmas.

I went out for a walk this morning. The cold wind blasted me in the face as I pushed against it; it was as though the park had put up a force-field. I did my usual check around my favourite trees.

The Rogue Oak has finally lost its leaves. It stood stark against the sky. The Pagoda Tree, so glorious in Autumn, was looking majesterial today, like a wood sculpture with its cold, bare branches. Meanwhile the Falling Tree has lost another branch. It stood there in shock, as though it had just been splintered with lightning.

Hopeful optimism is the bit that knows Spring is coming, isn't it. I don't know whether we'll be back to the office by then, or whether this will stretch on, but there's a part of me that can't wait for bluebells and dragonflies, warm sunshine and fresh leaves. That's what those trees are waiting for too, I suppose.

So hello, year. I doubt we'll have forgotten about lockdowns and virus strains and R numbers by the time you're done, but while you're here, I reckon we can get along. Under the earth, the world is sleeping, and already the ground moves with life, ready to burst through when the time comes. There's always hope.