In the Shade

“Oh my gosh. It’s so much nicer in the shade.”

“Crazy. It must be like 10 degrees cooler in the shade.”

“It’s gotten so much cooler since the sun went down.”

“It’s so much hotter in the sun.”

“Ah, I can’t believe how much warmer it is when the sun comes out.”

“That feels so good. What a difference in the sun.”

These are real things I’ve heard real people say. Intelligent people who have been alive for a good amount of time—time enough to recognize simple patterns that present readily in the world. I’m sure I’ve said some variation of all of these things, too.

When are folks just going to accept the fact that direct radiation from an inconceivably large ball of fire is going to cause a significant and perceptible change in thermal energy?

Usually, we get annoyed when people “state the obvious.” Our disdain has even necessitated the creation of a phrase which warrants quotes. Precipitation is often a troublemaker, in regard to obvious statements. Walk outside for the first time, after a long day in a non-fenestrated building—people running, insects drowning, sewers regurgitating water. Someone always has to say, “Oh, wow. It’s raining.” And then present company looks at the person with some sort of scorn— maybe laugh if they like him, sneer if they don’t—and might even call him “Captain Obvious.”

But this same sort of commentary, when applied to the warmth of the sun, is almost always accepted as a valid observation. I’ve never seen someone get upset because his friend said it is “cooler in the shade.” It doesn't happen. It never does. Yet there are few things more obvious than the fact that the sun is hot, and direct exposure to it will be warmer than indirect exposure to it.

So why an exception for the sun? Why are people consistently born anew by the effects of its energy? Why are people always reacting like today is their first day on earth, and their first ever time feeling the warmth of the sun, or the oddity of its absence?

I think they call that worship. I’m not sure who “they” are, but I still think they do. Don’t read into it too much. You won’t like where you end up.

There’s probably a reason so many different homies bowed down to the sun all those years ago. The Egyptians and them. They were onto something. It’s because you can worship a ball of fire, and it seems right. It feels like a natural thing to do. You can constantly be delighted and awed by its existence, and no one can blame you. We still do it every day.

I want my faith to be more like this. I want my love to be more like this. I want living to be more like this. I want them to be full of delight, and awe. I want them to be more like observing how it is hotter in the sun.