Lessons from the sun


Grass tickles the back of my neck and my exposed arms and legs. Sunshine warms my face. Bathing me in perfect comfort. Spots dance and twirl across my vision. Eyes closed, a bedazzling show is orchestrated. Rippling in and out like the tide of the ocean. A foot brushes my leg. Sitting up I am blinded with colors as my eyes adjust back to the world. Everyone is still laying in a row in the backyard. Andrew, Patrick, Michael. Timothy, next to me, opens his eyes, faced scrunched at the sun. 

“Sorry. I felt something crawling on me. What colors do you see?” 

“Mostly red and orange.”

“Me too. The sun is controling it. Doesn’t seem fair.”

“What colors will the moon show us?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s dark out. It will be the same as when you’re in bed. 
 All imaginary.”

“The moon is make-believe while the sun is real? That’s crazy!”

“You’re crazy.”

“So are you.”