The sun makes everything better. Well, except the polar caps, and ice cream and the skin that but you know what I mean. Life is just easier when the sun’s out. That’s why we call happy people sunny.
Most people are sunny when the sun’s out because it’s just easier then. It becomes naturally to us.
Last weekend, I was sitting at a coffeeshop in Oslo, in the sun, which isn’t something you can take for granted in Oslo, Norway, in September but there I was, sitting outside, reading a book – feeling pretty sunny, if I may so myself. I didn’t mind standing in line to get my coffee, I smiled at the overworked barista trying to do her best to get the coffees out the door, and I happily carried dirty cups back inside from the table I was going to sit at.
I wasn’t the only one feeling good about life.
A young lady skipped – literally skipped – down the street with a big smile on her face. She skipped past me and then crossed the street, still jumping and almost dancing. On the other side of the street, she skipped left and then ran the last few steps towards her boyfriend – wild assumption on my part – and jumped into his arms. Then they walked away, hand in hand.
Just as I had turned my attention back to my book, I thought I saw someone approaching me but kept on reading with one eye. A moment later, I could tell for sure that somebody was walking into my direction, and I looked up.
It was an old man, probably in his late seventies. He was short to begin with but when he walked towards me crouched over, he looked even smaller, and was now about my height – when I was sitting down.
He tiptoed towards me, and just as he was about to walk by me on the street, he took a step closer, and when was about a step and a half away from me, he grinned and shouted: “INDIAN SUMMER!”
And I swear he skipped down the street before disappearing behind the corner.
Sometimes you’re just so happy you want to tell the world.