Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong time.

I should have been turning on, tuning in and dropping out at Woodstock in the Sixties with the rest of the hippies.

One of the ’hello trees, hellos sky’ reactions that makes me form this view, is that I really like the start of British Summer Time.

While I’m sympathetic to the view that the whole switching of the clocks is outdated and unnecessary now that cowsheds have electric lights, I still enjoy the change brought by the clocks going forward.

The way that you slightly forget about the switchover on the day it happens and then find yourself gaping in amazement at the bright sunshine that’s still dancing around at six in the evening.

As I said, I’m such an old hippy.

I have no truck with those who trot out that tired old line about losing an hour of sleep.

I point out as politely as I can that in return for the ’lost’ hour, they get hundreds of hours of lovely daylight.

Plus, the hour is given back to them in the autumn.

They look at me suspiciously, perhaps wondering why I’m not wearing a tie-dye T-shirt and beads.

On the island in particular, the clocks going forward seems to be the catalyst for a chain of events which feel like life emerging from under the dark cloak of winter.

Tourist-based businesses re-open.

There’s the not-entirely-unpleasant tang of new paint in the air. Evening leisure activities increase.

A few days ago, I had the annual ritual of walking along Douglas Promenade and momentarily double-taking while wondering ’What the heck is a horse doing on the Prom?’.

Then my mind switched from winter to spring mode and I realised that the horse trams were running again.

All this steady increase in fair weather activity on the island forms a countdown to that old motorbike shindig in June - and with that, summer has properly started.

The clocks going forward an hour is the first step, starting the sequence of events from the short cold days to the long, (generally) warm ones.

The increase in energy levels and the urge to get out and just do things is well worth temporarily losing an hour of sleep .

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to sit on a beanbag and chant for a while.