The sun makes me so happy. Anyone who knows me, understands that on a sunny day, I can't stay inside. A pull of obligation floats me out the door, to pursue whatever activity I had planned somewhere in the sun. Essay writing on the lawn with my laptop, textbook reading, knitting, listening to music, singing, yoga, sleeping—and then the more absurd—organizing my desk (yes, I have actually brought my belongings outside to do this), job applications, heck, I've even considered showering (bucket, deserted patch of grass...) When the weather is nice, the things around me that usually fill me with a muted joy when it's cold out (hey pretty building brr snowy wind hey nice tree ahh my hands are freezing off have to get inside cute bundled up baby ahh i want to be wrapped in a down sleeping bag in a cozy stroller too...) absolutely emanate joy, especially because I actually have time to appreciate them. It's a fantastic feeling, to practically explode with joy because a tree is beautiful. Yeah yeah yeah, it's kind of ridiculous, right? I mean no one is so cheery all the time, and if they are then they are just annoying. Right? I guess the flipside is the ephemerality of it all. My prophets, the Beatles, have quite a bit to say on this front: here comes the sun, it's alright, all things must pass all things must pass away live and let die but tomorrow may rain so i'll follow the sun.
And now it's warm here. And although it hailed yesterday, it looks like it's pretty much here to stay, and that we're about to experience and explosion of green and lawns and sunbathing and waterbathing and a few of my absolute favorite things. And here it is. It's one long stretch of sunlight and I don't even have anymore bitter cold weather to numb my passions for this city before I leave, it'll happen in the heat and height of it all. But as they say, better to leave loving it and not wanting to leave than to leave gladly.
I am currently completing a puzzle of the Matterhorn. I already put together the hut and the two hiking people and the border and now I have the sky and the mountain and the grass—those indistinguishable hard parts. Yesterday I worked on it for an hour and got two pieces. I guess just as you think the picture is becoming clearer, it's the final details that turn out to be much more complicated than you thought. I joked with my host family over dinner yesterday that if I don't finish the puzzle before I leave, I'll have to come back. The metaphorical connotations of such a statement abound. In fact, enough metaphors for today, I'm supposed to be reading the bicycle stand plan for Munich. Vorradklemmen, Anlehnbuegel...I never knew I would learn the technical terms for bicycle stands in German (I don't even know them in English!!)
And now I'm off to enjoy my sunny day as it should be enjoyed...moment for moment.
And now, a smile:
Q: Did you hear about the guy who stayed up all night just to see where the sun went?
A: Then it dawned on him.