The Sun has come back out in Las Vegas and I love it. There is something about the sun.
The sun draws me back to the carefree days of summer on the farm in Indiana. Lying down on the grass with a new batch of puppies, rolling around and around down the slight decline in our yard getting covered in the newly mowed and fresh smelling clippings.
The Sun reminds me of pulling our tractor up to the deep end of the pool and raising its bucket high to form a high dive for us scrawny, pre-teen, crazy boys. We pretended to be Olympic high jumpers as we laid a garden hose across the pool to form the high bar and in slow motion we did the Fosbury Flop in perfect form. We challenged each other to see how many lengths of the pool could be swum on one breath. Then, breathless, we would lie in the sun and soak in the rays.
The Sun reminds me of driving the “old time” tractors. Not those new-fangled ones with cabs, CD playing stereos, and air conditioning but the ones out in the sun, where I would sit at the edge of the seat so my tan would not have a “farmers-tan” line from the back of the seat; where I was dust covered from the rich Indiana soil sticking to my suntan lotion and the whitest thing on me was the teeth exposed by my smile.
The Sun reminds me of my in-law’s cottage with family close by, little kids in little lifejackets playing in the shallows following fish in the sun sparkled water, the smell of hotdogs or hamburgers on the grill, and boats going by pulling multicolored skiers.
The Sun shining on my face reminds me of good times and a blessed life. The Sun shining tells me of smiles on farmer’s faces as it feeds their crops. The Sun smells of spring and new life. The Sun fills the earth with the warmth of its creator as if God himself is shining his smile across the world, moving carefully, chasing away shadows and darkness, and reminding us every day of his goodness and attention.
There is something about the Sun. In fact, what am I doing here in front of my computer? Sunshine, here I come, again, it’ time to play hooky.
The sun draws me back to the carefree days of summer on the farm in Indiana. Lying down on the grass with a new batch of puppies, rolling around and around down the slight decline in our yard getting covered in the newly mowed and fresh smelling clippings.
The Sun reminds me of pulling our tractor up to the deep end of the pool and raising its bucket high to form a high dive for us scrawny, pre-teen, crazy boys. We pretended to be Olympic high jumpers as we laid a garden hose across the pool to form the high bar and in slow motion we did the Fosbury Flop in perfect form. We challenged each other to see how many lengths of the pool could be swum on one breath. Then, breathless, we would lie in the sun and soak in the rays.
The Sun reminds me of driving the “old time” tractors. Not those new-fangled ones with cabs, CD playing stereos, and air conditioning but the ones out in the sun, where I would sit at the edge of the seat so my tan would not have a “farmers-tan” line from the back of the seat; where I was dust covered from the rich Indiana soil sticking to my suntan lotion and the whitest thing on me was the teeth exposed by my smile.
The Sun reminds me of my in-law’s cottage with family close by, little kids in little lifejackets playing in the shallows following fish in the sun sparkled water, the smell of hotdogs or hamburgers on the grill, and boats going by pulling multicolored skiers.
The Sun shining on my face reminds me of good times and a blessed life. The Sun shining tells me of smiles on farmer’s faces as it feeds their crops. The Sun smells of spring and new life. The Sun fills the earth with the warmth of its creator as if God himself is shining his smile across the world, moving carefully, chasing away shadows and darkness, and reminding us every day of his goodness and attention.
There is something about the Sun. In fact, what am I doing here in front of my computer? Sunshine, here I come, again, it’ time to play hooky.
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