Time was paradoxical in 2020. Most of us were locked inside, isolated, but universally in that situation. Aside from posting a couple of funny memes to play down the horror, little free time was left for work, reading, or a little TV. Yet idle days, one leading to the other, week after week. I would not count the days. They all felt like a single, identical, long one. An invitation to appreciate our connection to reality. Here is my diary of this endless day, where chronology no longer mattered. A new moon rose one night, before everyone’s eyes. Which surprisingly echoed that chorus from a Radiohead song. In “The Numbers”, Thom Yorke hopes for a change through a beautiful, optimistic call to arms. The clock has already been ticking for us all, but it stopped in 2020 to allow us one last chance to think about the environmental issues at stake, the importance of public service and healthcare, the significance of a human connection over goods in a sustainable economy, and for those who benefit from privilege, to acknowledge and fight it. The message was pretty clear this time round. That Spring had a different sense of time, and it had me thinking.