of hope and happiness

So many people have been anxious to see the back of the year 2020 that I suppose it’s a bit of a pity that the New Year couldn’t have been celebrated more extensively. Personally, though, I’m just glad there aren’t more headlines today reporting illegal gatherings and events to greet 2021.

But much as we have looked ahead to 2021 with optimism and anticipation, I can’t help thinking of Gatsby’s elusive green light – “the orgastic future that year by year recedes before us.”
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straight ahead

Since it’s New Year’s Eve, I feel I should make an effort and try and post something about the year that’s almost over.

But, really, what can I say? 2020 has been a bit of a trial for pretty much everyone and I think most of us will be glad to see the back of it.

It’s tempting to think about just crumpling the whole thing up and throwing it away.
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(not) visionary poetry

This week I failed to celebrate two fairly important days.

Wednesday, 30th of September was International Translation Day, and Thursday, 1st of October was National Poetry Day in the UK. (I’ve mentioned before that I don’t understand why the UK has a different Poetry Day and a different Book Day from other countries, but I’m not going to chase that red herring today.)
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father’s day gift

I’ve never really celebrated Father’s Day. I don’t think anyone did when I was a small child and then, when it became more well-known in the UK, it was considered an American import and looked down on by my parents’ generation. Now, though, it’s almost impossible to ignore. Even when email newsletters offer the chance to opt out of Father’s Day updates, it seeps through on social media, in the news, and in shelves stacked with bottles at the supermarket.
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bright tomorrows

Despite the last week having been less-than-satisfactory on a number of counts, I woke this morning feeling surprisingly positive.

There was also a phrase – brand new bright tomorrow – going round and round in my mind.

And then I realised that today is the first day of summer.
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