Folks who live in a climate such as the Southwest don’t always appreciate the sun, mostly for very good reasons. During the hottest parts of the year, the sun becomes an overwhelming menace, blinding one’s eyes at its brightest, drying up soil and plants and any visible moisture before one’s eyes. And oh, my, the terrible heat, sometimes. However, during the cooler times of year, especially when days become cloudy and gloomy, sunlight can be welcome and cheery and lift spirits.
Ah, but what I have found with morning sun, at any time of year, is that it reveals all the dust that one doesn’t notice at any other time. The fingers of the sun point to furniture tops and dust paths and puffs of dust on blinds and frostings of dust on draperies. You get the picture. But seeing that dust can usually inspire me to grab the dust cloths and the mop and broom and tidy away. Then comes that feeling of virtue that comes when we try to make things pretty and clean.
So how long does that feeling of virtue last? Well, it all depends, really, but usually it lasts until that magical moment when the evening sun shines in from the opposite direction and illuminates all the dust I missed.