IT will be Spring before long (my daffodils are already escaping from the earth) and my hibernation will be over.

Traditional January depression colours my view as I contemplate having to mow the lawn, tackle the weeds, tidy up the borders and embark on all the other uninspiring tasks which signal the end of a cosy winter indoors.

I find myself glaring at cherry trees because I know they will soon start sprouting leaves which I will have to spend time collecting next Autumn when they turn brown and mess up the path.

Bah! What do all those poets see in that burgeoning nature stuff?

Everything turns green and just keeps on growing until you cut it back. No wonder some people live in flats.

Then there are the cuddly and noble creatures which make people go soft and dreamy.

They include squirrels which invade your loft, murdering magpies and escaped wild boar.

What did they ever do for us?

And if you think I'm being miserable just listen to a friend of mine who was totally unimpressed with the fuss about the whale which was daft enough to swim into the centre of London.

"My neighbour's cat died on the same day. What's the difference? They're animals aren't they?"

Looking at the words I have written so far in this piece, I find myself feeling that I ought to apologise for being considerably more downbeat than wry the label attached to the top of the column.

It is just that I am suffering from another dose of SAD Seasonal Alan Disorder.

Maybe it is something to do with all the gloomy news around at the moment and a sense that it is becoming difficult to trust in anybody much.

We are in a world populated by fake sheikhs, bumbling British "diplomats" who spy on a friendly country, violent "happy slappers" and a leading politician who stressed his traditional family values while hiding a taste for rent boys.

Death and destruction continues in Iraq, the British government is getting heavy with people on incapacity benefits and the cost of a colour TV licence is to rise by £5 to £131.50.

But I have to admit I managed to laugh once this week just the once when I saw a cartoon depicting two Russian soldiers holding an imitation rock converted into a spying device.

The caption read: "It's clever, but not as clever as our whale in the Thames."

That's better. I am beginning to cheer up a little now.

It brings me back to those pesky grey squirrels and the news that the government has sanctioned "targeted control programmes" in various woodland areas where they are threatening the nation's remaining red squirrels and the odd dormouse.

This is all well and good but what about the bushy-tailed rats which are over-running urban areas and going completely bananas when they find stashes of cocaine hidden by forgetful druggies?

I tell you, it's a war and we humans are not winning.