For now at least Mondays mean getting up while it’s still dark. That will change as the days get longer, which will also mean the dogs getting up earlier because they’re triggered by daylight. The sunrise means it’s time for breakfast no matter when the sun rises and they have the advantage of being able to go back to sleep. And how they know it’s after 5PM, their usual supper time, when the sun sets a little later each day is beyond me.
Most of the time I don’t even think about the fact that my commute is more or less easterly. I’ve never stopped to look at a compass while driving and I don’t see too many cars with dashboard mounted compasses anymore. When I was a kid one of our next door neighbors had one of those in his car but it seemed like it wobbled so much with every bump and turn it was impossible to get a reliable reading. Then, when we were on a road trip with him he gave us a lengthy explanation of how he was navigating by the position of the sun, none of which explained how he managed to get lost, but that’s another story.
This morning, however, I found myself driving straight into the sun. I’d forgotten that this was a regular problem for bus drivers I rode with in the afternoons—they were going west and, twice a year, the sun would be in the imperfect position of hanging right over the road ahead. I always felt sorry for the bus drivers but I also just couldn’t bear to look.
This morning when faced with the sun I also had an advantage the bus drivers don’t: I could pull over and wait a few minutes until the sun wasn’t directly in my line of sight anymore. I also could have taken an alternate route and I wouldn’t get lost because I’d be navigating by the sun.
Right now, the sun hits me square in the face at work from about 8:00 – 8:20. I kind of love it – it’s filtered through a shade, so it’s not obnoxious. It’s just like being in the spotlight for a few minutes.
That does sound nice. The past couple of weeks when I’ve been in the office the early morning sun has come right in through the window and letting it filter through the shade is nice. And, darn it, I just remembered that Mayakovsky poem about how he invited the sun in to have tea with him.
I like staring at your posts, Chris, but not su much at the sun when it hits me in the face on my Monday morning commute. Always good to see you.
It’s always good to see you too, Ann, and I’m glad the sun will soon change its position so it’s not right in the way of the commute.