This year has gone super-fast. It doesn’t seem five minutes since all this lockdown stuff began – I remember the silence descending as the cars stopped rolling by – and the sound of the waves at the beach a mile down the road. The first months rolled by in shorts and afternoons in the garden. Spring rolled into summer and nobody could remenber what day it was never mind how fast the weeks were flying by.
As summer rolled into autumn and the days got shorter and cooler we hurtled towards the clocks going back and the evenings drawing in at a pace – at such a fast pace the days feel almost non-existent; is it even worth getting out of pyjamas?
Darkness descends by 4pm now – many of the shops remain closed (until tomorrow) and no pubs are coffee shops are open. The supermarkets aren’t constantly playing Christmas tunes and there aren’t any advent calendars to be bought anywhere. Though households have already decorated their homes (not me I hasten to add) it feels like the end of 2020 might be a damp squib rather than a party animal.
How can it be December already?
My 2020 Story 