And What Did YOU Do . . .

Time seems to be one of those givens in life. Whether the clock or the calendar, time ticks away in precise intervals. Except for yesterday. Those who keep the world's time in order announced the addition of one second to the day.

What did you do with YOUR extra second?

Living where I do, I value the rhythm of the changing seasons. The newness of spring, the flavors of summer, the colors of fall, and the solitude of winter. I used to be able to mark spring events on my calendar.  Snowdrops came up on exactly the same day every year, despite variations in any particular spring's weather. The same pair of mallard ducks arrived regular as clockwork - the male's limp telling us it was the same pair every year. One year, the pond had not yet thawed - and he came anyway and sat on the ice, waiting.

Not anymore are seasonal changes dependable. On this first day of July, our garden looks like mid-August. Slightly unruly like a person in need of a haircut. And we already are in the midst of August's hot and muggy dog-days. Along with all the record-breaking weather across the country. The worst power outage ever in Virgina. Floods in Duluth, the city built on a hill. Colorado burning up, Florida deluged with rain. Last week over a thousand weather records were broken in this country.

When we recently traveled to Japan and returned by ship, I gained a new perspective about time. When we have flown to Asia in the past, crossing the international date line was mixed together with time zone changes. After the long plane flight, the only thing that mattered was the day and time when we landed.

Returning by ship was another matter. Our ship traveled at 20 knots or so - the rough equivalent of 20 mph. This slow passage across the Pacific gave us a number of 23-hour days. When we crossed the international dateline, we had begun the day as Saturday and then reverted back to Friday. Or we had two Saurdays in an eight day week, if we preferred to look at it that way. Time shifts in our internal clocks - time that was not so regular, so dependable.

I remember when I was a child. Summer stretched out blissfully. It felt like six months of no school, rather than three months. Now that I am at this age, time whizs by like a bullet train in Europe.  There is something intrinsically "unfair" about this arrangement! Not that I would ever begrudge a child's relationship to summer-time. But here I am - at this age - wanting to savor life. When I often can't keep track of what day it is, much less what month it is. How can it be July already?

Clem bought a card for me. He is a great supporter of Hallmark and a dear romantic at heart. I looked at him a little funny when he handed it to me. I couldn't recall any special event we were celebrating. I drew the card out of its envelope. The chimp on the front of the card says "do you know what day it is?" Inside the card,  the chimp answers his own question -  "me neither."

                                                         And what did YOU do with your extra second . . .