The last day of winter

Snow may be forecast for March , but I’m treating today as the last day of winter and preparing for spring.

Meteorological Winter is determined by the annual temperature cycles and the Gregorian calendar. Meteorological winter starts December 1st in the Northern Hemisphere and lasts 3 months

The Old Bailey is a few hundred yards from my flat where I and Stella have been locked down since the start of December. This shot was taken on a walk with her last night.

The figure of justice shone forth as we walked up to Smithfield and the blue sky set off the harsh concrete making for a striking sight.

We talked as we walked of what the last three months have meant for us. We have become closer and it is been a period of remarkable endeavor for us both.

It seemed for us that justice was shining forth, but for many there hasn’t been much justice. Many people have had a tough three months and some (among them friends) are here no more.

Now seems a good time to say thanks to the COVID-19 Actuarial response group who have charted us not just through winter but through the year since the pandemic was declared.

Amazingly, the ICNARC numbers show us returning to something close to where we were this time last year, at least in terms of hospital admissions

We now have to start the rebuilding and I guess that means holding back the party in  Shoreditch for a couple of months! In a few days, kids will be back in school (hopefully the streets around St Pauls will see a few less skateboarders). In six weeks, we can go back to the gym and have our haircuts! May will see me seeing my mother for real. All this to look forward to – things we took for granted this time last year.

Justice for some, but not for others. We will pray this morning for those in our congregation and the wider world who have not been so lucky.

But on the last day of winter, I have thanks in my heart for all those who have delivered us from what we have been through.

About henry tapper

Founder of the Pension PlayPen,, partner of Stella, father of Olly . I am the Pension Plowman
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