“In the winter I rise at first light and spend as many hours as the weather allows outside, taking advantage of every moment of light the stingy heavens offer. But soon there will be so much daylight I won’t know what to do with it. I might sleep in every so often. I might even take a nap in the middle of the afternoon.”
March 10, 2013, Washington, DC: An overhyped winter storm came and went earlier this week without leaving a flake of snow on the ground in our southeast quadrant of Washington, DC. This Sunday afternoon, the wooden boards of the deck are warm against my bare feet and an extra hour of sunlight will propel us into the evening. That hour of the morning we lost is already well worth the trade off. It is my favorite day of the year, nothing but longer and warmer days ahead. The hard part is behind us.
I am absolutely someone who is fueled by sunlight: by a bright room, by a long summer evening, by rays reflecting and bouncing off the water. The neighborhood, too, is its best self as the light stretches out around it. Tulips and produce peek out of the bags people tote home from Eastern Market. Outdoor vendors like those at Vigilante Coffee field questions from visitors in no rush to head back inside. It is a week or so before we’re surrounded by cherry blossoms and allergies, and we’ve reached the daylight at the end of the tunnel. Ten days more until the official start of spring.
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