“Sunshine almost all the time makes me high.” Listening to the John Denver special on PBS and hearing that music of my youth, I’m struck by how well so much of it still works. I’m struck, too, by how much richer some of the songs are now than when I first heard them as a teenager or undergraduate. I hadn’t lived enough for them to make sense, evidently.
“Sunshine on My Shoulders” had never been one of my favorites. Living in Florida, there was often too much sun, and even though I enjoyed the beach, as most young people do, sunshine was something I took for granted. Now, though, in a place where winters are cold and dark and this fall brought so much rain that it sometimes felt as if I’d start growing mold, sunny days are cause for celebration. It’s possible, though, that I may get too enthusiastic sometimes. Taking a walk one sunny morning after days of rain, I got so chirpy that my long-suffering spouse looked over and asked, “Are you sure you don’t photosynthesize?”
Not in this lifetime (but I can’t guarantee that I may not have been a dandelion somewhere down the line).