2021 BEGAN IN TUMULT and ended in chaos.  In January there was, depending on your point of view, either an insurrection or a bold act of patriotism and defiance.  Whichever position you take, I think we can agree it was a scene of unprecedented civil disorder.

Later, there was the hurried and again chaotic, disorderly rush to get the U.S. out of Afghanistan.  Sadly, the plan seemingly did not take into account either the speed at which the Taliban would fill the vacuum left by the withdrawing American forces, nor what to do about the tens of thousands of Afghans who had cooperated with the U.S. and would be put into immediate peril with our departure.

There were wildfires, floods, tornadoes, and other natural disasters on what seemed an historic scale.  Hundreds of people lost their lives, many more lost most or all of their worldly possessions and assets.

There was an enormous rush of unaccompanied minors arriving at the southern border of the U.S., triggering another hastily-assembled response from the Federal government.  That response is ongoing, although it has largely disappeared from daily news headlines and op/ed pieces.

And of course, there was the ever-present pandemic.  Vaccination rates are up (good) but, with the emergence of the omicron variant in the late autumn, new cases are up even more.  And although there is still a clear benefit to being fully vaccinated, so-called "breakthrough" cases are also on the rise.  I have family members who fall into that category, including one who didn't survive despite being fully vaccinated according to the standards of the middle summer (i.e. pre-booster).

All of these thoughts crossed my mind today, as I wound my way gradually around the "Millenium Trail" (MT), a multi-purpose path that encircles the town where I live.  Being New Year's Eve the usual rush and hum of business was largely muted and subdued; instead, people were out walking, or running last-minute errands before settling in for whatever their end-of-year celebration will be.

The MT has stretches that are reasonably pleasant, but also a few miles along a busy suburban road that serves a number of industrial and commercial centers.  In those areas the riding is mere transportation, a means of getting from Point A to Point B without actually being on the roadway proper.

Driveways and parking lot entrances perforate the line of the trail throughout those stretches.  A rider must be constantly vigilant and alert to the possibility that a motorist may have approached from behind, wanting to make a right turn across the path and into one of the businesses on the opposite side from the road.  Happily for me, today all of the cars saw me and waited for me to clear the driveways before completing their turn, but I can easily envision scenarios where either a driver doesn't see me or simply elects not to acknowledge my presence and makes their turn.  So, I believe I will be avoiding that stretch in the future.

Later on, after I had left the trail proper and was working my way back home through residential areas and then town center (what passes for "downtown Rockville", as opposed to the giant belt of sprawl in which the older city sits), I noticed a pileated woodpecker come flying up, land on a dead snag, make a few exploratory pecks, then fly away again.  A woman sat alone on a bench, bundled up and masked, reading a book in the thin afternoon sunshine.  Several couples strolled along with youngsters either in tow, or in a stroller.

By the time I arrived home, I was pleasantly relaxed physically and mentally, so the ride served its purposes.  But I'm still entirely ready to put this year firmly in the past and move forward to newer, hopefully vastly better, experiences next year.

Here's wishing you all a peaceful, healthy New Year and thousands of relaxing, enjoyable miles on the road.