Glory in dreams of ice cream sundaes dripping onto swimsuits, knobby knees half submerged/sun toasted in aquamarine bliss--the coconut-y chemical aroma of Hawaiian Tropic mingling with the chlorine and wet concrete mist of the public swimming pool.
Baseball games that end right around dusk; dirt streaking blue jeans and staining white t-shirts, hoodies pulled over tousled hair as the hatchback trunk of the minivan slams shut and everyone goes home for a dinner examining new mosquito bites.
Granted, I just came back from Southern California, where I had my fill of gorgeous weather for a few days. I having already worn a sun dress and felt warmth on my bare back at the beginning of February.
I have always had the association of boredom with sunny days.
Sunny weather is kind of bland. Everything is revealed all at once. There is no fog or shadow, just harsh brightness. Some days this is nice. I especially like it when it is sunny and a little cold. Sun is usually a novelty in those cases and it's not hard to be happy about not having to bundle when leaving the house.
Since I've gotten older I've begun to enjoy more outdoor activities that are more easily facilitated by comfortable weather. Comfortable. Unchallenging. Unchanging. Pleasant for a day or for an hour, but not for always. I love morning fog and gray weather and sometimes rain.
My debilitatingly (the computer keeps telling me that I'm making up words) boring day has made me think of what always hovers in the back of my mind as the nightmare of my future. Sunny days spent inside working, going home and making dinner,watching tv. And repeat. This is actually what I do on a regular basis now (minus the television, but plus more computer use), but in my nightmare version I am bored all of the time. Bored at work, bored at home, bored even when I sleep. Completely static and unfulfilled. Sunny days sometimes remind me of this.
Days that are windy and icy cold (for here, which is not ever truly icy cold) or mornings where you can see your breath, there's an electricity in the air. It's like sunshine cooks all of that electricity out and the air becomes like a tepid bath.
I don't know. I prefer the beaches of Northern California to Southern California, but I am afraid of actually going into the ocean (sharks!) and have never been to bonfire (a dream)... and have in recent years really begun to enjoy the sweating and stinking and sundresses of summer. And although I know it's physically unhealthy, I sometimes feel the one link that I have to my ancestors who have been assimilated out of/ are otherwise unknown to my present existence is the deep tan that I am able to develop after one painless sunburn. My last name is Italian, didn't you know this? And Aunt Chita's family was Mexican... however, as my grandfather said, my grandmother came from a "good German family." and who knows about that other half of the family. My father's last name is German, I think. The rest is a mystery. The cause of my melanoma will not be.
Maybe I am not enamored with sunshine as a condition that I often do not get to maximize my enjoyment of it. This seems unlikely as I am practically never outside at dusk, however whenever I am I only can think that dusk is the most beautiful, wonderful time of the day. Maybe it's from growing up here and there just being too much of it. I used to always equate summers with standing in hot black asphalt parking lots that could make a person sick.
Anywho. It'll be nice when the days get longer. I just love summer nights.
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