Here in Southern California, we mostly take the sun for granted. In the past I’d grown to resent the sunny day, moaning whenever the weather dared reach over a tepid 75 degrees Fahrenheit. Sunshine was uneven tanning, sweaty blouses and searing skin. My dream vacation was in Alaska.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, sometimes. Between classes under fluorescent lights and working until evening, I hardly see the sun these days. It isn’t until my breaks and lunches that I notice how eagerly, how desperately, I rush outside to feel the sun on my skin, like a leaf reaching for the light.
The sun’s gotten a bad rap for a long time, what with the dangers of melanoma (fair-skinned friends especially, remember your sunscreen!) and global warming’s increasing heat waves. But feet up on a lawn chair, eyelids shut and glowing orange, I realized I’d forgotten that the sun could also feel so good.