Summer Song

I’m not sure I even knew what the summer solstice was until college.

My freshman dorm room lacked direct sunlight. It was in the interior of the building, with a window overlooking a ventalation shaft. I’m sure that’s not the sole reason for my near-depression that year, but it didn’t help.

I’ve become acutely aware of the value of sunlight since then, and now that I have a sliver of it six stories above the city, I like to celebrate it. Last night, fifty or so of my closest friends celebrated with me.

The sky was choked with clouds, and threatened rain, but we chilled the beer and set out some chips and dip just the same. When the rain finally fell, a line formed at the top of my spiral staircase as everyone relocated to my living room. Later, when the rain stopped, we stepped back outside.

My head still hurts, and I’m bone tired. But I’m grateful for the sun. I know it’s there behind the clouds. And I’m grateful for my friends who are there for me in sunshine and rain alike.

My brother and I are off to Richmond in a few hours to begin work on our documentary, “Mr. Rogers & Me” (you can track our progress here). Somehow, I feel absolutely certain that the sun is not the only heavenly thing smiling down on us.