Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes,
Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear.
Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife.
In five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?
I am pretty sure that there are more than 525,600 minutes in a year, even when it is not a leap year. But the sentiment is the same: a lot of time passes in a year and there are always a lot of memories and stories that emerge. (I don’t actually want to know how many cups of coffee I drink in a year.)
It has me thinking to the last year that there was a leap year. 2008. I wrote about it then but I think back to it again now. Not only was that year a leap year, but I had an extra day from crossing the dateline. I will never again have a year that long unless I cross the date line on a leap year once again.
(UPDATE: So what if I can’t do math. Don’t hate me.)