What a special day today is then! Feb 29^th, it only comes round once every four years. To many of us, four yearsis neither here nor there. They hold the Olympics, every four years. World cups and general elections usually come around every four years or so. To someone that is terminally ill, four years is a vast ocean of time. Time is something we all measure using different criteria to suit our circumstances. We often get different answers to the same sums. To a high flying busy person, there are not enough hours in the day. To the tramp waking up on the park bench this morning, he is probably wondering how he will get the where with all and maybe what even is the point in trying to fill another day.

Today I have woken up feeling really good again. I had a wonderful day out on the Point of Ayre yesterday. It's now 7-30am and it is pouring with rain and the forecast tells us to expect a full gale from the southwest by lunchtime. I noticed this morning the dawn chorus began at 5-58. At least that was when I heard the first song thrush. By 6-20 they were all at it. It set me thinking. Why do we humans behave so differently to the rest of the animal kingdom? At first light, the birds immediately burst in to song. My dog Skipper starts to bounce around the house as soon as he hears my voice. He is ready for walks within seconds of me waking. Why is that we humans wake up so slowly, turning over several times trying to grab an extra few minutes, then gingerly pussy footing around the house, often grumpy with the brain only half active, for at least an hour or so. Just imagine what it would be like if we began our day taking a leaf from the birds. Imagine bursting into song as soon as your eyes opened. Instead of rolling over trying to grab an extra few moments, you would burst in to the latest Arctic Monkey's track, Oasis or whatever. Of course everyone else in your household would be doing the same thing. We would bounce along the pavement on our way to work with our ears ringing from a human dawn chorus belching out from every house. Imagine how uplifted you would feel by the time you got to work. Well it certainly seems to work for the birds. But maybe we simply have too many things to worry about. Maybe it's just me, but folk generally don't seem quite as happy as they use to be. I don't hear anyone whistling these days. As a youngster in the 1960's, as I walked in to Castletown from my home at Janet's Corner, I would hear the workers in the brewery whistling as I walked by, window cleaners up ladders, painters and street cleaners or whistling as they worked. The quayside a hive of activity with men discharging coal boats or whistling or belching out the latest Cliff Richards hit or whatever. People just seemed happier in their work and every day lives than they appear to be today. When I wander in to Castletown later I wont hear anyone whistling or singing and I might get some strange looks if I walk down Malew's Street belting out one of my favourite songs. I will let you know tomorrow how I get on. Mind you, it's pouring with rain and blowing a gale today. I can't remember if the happy workmen of my childhood performed in bad weather. If I go waltzing down Malew Street this morning singing at the top of my voice, I may well be writing this blog from my padded cell on Monday