The sun came out last week, and although I've been warned not to be fooled into thinking winter is over, it was a huge lift to the spirits. There’ve been several completely clear, sunny days in a row, the sun angle has increased just enough to clear the fir trees up the hill, sunshine floods my humble abode, and I rejoice. It’s been twelve weeks since the end of Daylight Savings Time, six weeks since the solstice. We’re back to where we were. From here on out, with each passing day, the earth tilts just a little bit more, and the sun appears just a little higher in the sky. It feels as if the heavy stage curtain has lifted, revealing the sun.
Some might say this is all wishful thinking, that winter storms are still very much a possibility, and rain is to be expected from now until summer. That every year at this time, nature teases us with this glimpse of sun. And I say one can hardly argue with that. However, as one committed to learning to love winter in the San Juan Islands, I see this week of sunshine as enormously helpful. Sun is sun, and warmth is warmth. Amen.
Long, long ago, when I was a student at University of Oregon, we sat like kindergartners, soaking up the lessons of our venerated teachers who espoused the wisdom of paying attention to sun angles. So when I chose a place to live way up north, I made damn sure the room where I spend most of my time has big south facing windows. Something even a humble renter can hold out for. When the rays of the sun enter a room through big windows, something miraculous happens. The house warms up, and it is good.
Prevention of S. A. D. supposedly depends on adequate exposure to daylight, that's what they say. But for me, true winter happiness depends on warmth just as much if not more than daylight. I come by this hankering for warmth honestly. When I was a child in England, my parents decided it was perfectly acceptable to let children freeze their tiny asses off. Dickens got that right. Brick parsonages in the 1950s were quaint with their leaded glass windows and all, but man were they cold.
Now we have more control over our destinies, my sisters and I can look back at teeth chattering photos of ourselves from that time and laugh, or shudder, depending on the day, and thank the sun gods we now have control over the thermostat and enough money to pay the bill. My parents weren't bad people, just living on a meager minister's salary. I realize now it was probably a choice between heat and food. Like Scarlett O'Hara though, later, when I realized I had power to make myself happy, I vowed, "I'll never be cold again." It looked something like this: (If you get an ad, cancel Youtube and try again.) Well, Vivien Leigh was English, and we Brits can be somewhat dramatic, but that's how friggin' cold our little parsonage was. God bless us, every one.
Prevention of S. A. D. supposedly depends on adequate exposure to daylight, that's what they say. But for me, true winter happiness depends on warmth just as much if not more than daylight. I come by this hankering for warmth honestly. When I was a child in England, my parents decided it was perfectly acceptable to let children freeze their tiny asses off. Dickens got that right. Brick parsonages in the 1950s were quaint with their leaded glass windows and all, but man were they cold.
Now we have more control over our destinies, my sisters and I can look back at teeth chattering photos of ourselves from that time and laugh, or shudder, depending on the day, and thank the sun gods we now have control over the thermostat and enough money to pay the bill. My parents weren't bad people, just living on a meager minister's salary. I realize now it was probably a choice between heat and food. Like Scarlett O'Hara though, later, when I realized I had power to make myself happy, I vowed, "I'll never be cold again." It looked something like this: (If you get an ad, cancel Youtube and try again.) Well, Vivien Leigh was English, and we Brits can be somewhat dramatic, but that's how friggin' cold our little parsonage was. God bless us, every one.
