The shadow proves the sunshine

Sunlight! Sweet brightness! You’ll have to forgive me for my overearly dreams of summer, but look at it. Quite a sight, no? Almost makes me want to lie on the grass and drink ice tea. The rays hit me almost dead on my eyes this morning. Usually that would be enough to provoke violence, or at least marked agitation, but look at it! It’s the sun! What a lucky thing – people can hate on all kinds of luminous balls of plasma (ok, perhaps not hatred, but you can mildly appreciate big guns like jupiter, saturn and suchlike for their impressive otherworldliness), but the sun gets unanimous praise. And I don’t know anyone, living or dead, that can get people of all ages and shapes to willingly expose themselves so readily like that big ‘ol tangerine circle in the sky. A quick wink here, a flash there, and suddenly great hordes are found submitting to its lustre.

Lots of people tell me they couldn’t live in sunnier climes because they’d take good weather for granted or become so used to warmth that they’d crave the variety of autumn and winter. Well, you know what? I’ve *seen* winter, and it ain’t all that. I don’t think I’ll ever crave ‘grey drizzle’ as long as this life keeps churning out minutes. I mean, this is the sun we’re talking about here. You wouldn’t say no to free chocolate every day for life would you? And you couldn’t hate on Mother Teresa now could you? So think of the sun as a chocolatey Mother Teresa and then go ahead and try with all your might to justify taking a break from all that imperious goodness.*

*On second thought, don’t. Just think of the warmth, the comfort and nature in all its technicolour triumph.

**Just as a wrote this, a small bluebird bounced off his perch in the trees and into a patch of sunlit grass, breast outstretched. See? Even the beaked ones can’t get enough.