As much as Nick loves natural light, I’ve never seen him wear shades before.
Little fun fact about Nick: one of his favorite things in the world is natural light. He freaking talks about how awesome natural light is at least three times a month. If you add that up over the course of the years I’ve known him, that’s a lot of time spent talking about something as simplistic as the sun’s rays.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love photography. I practically salivate over natural light when I shoot photos. The best weddings photos are the ones that are shot with as much natural light as possible.
But Nick’s not a photographer. He just goes nuts over sunlight.
He, and I’m not exaggerating, does not like curtains because of this. He would PREFER a curtainless world to let as much natural light into our house as possible. When we were looking at houses to buy last year, he’s say, “Look at those windows! Think about how much natural light we’ll get.”
And I, looking at him from the corner of my eye, say, “Sure. Yeah. I mean, looks great.”
When we’re driving, Nick is usual steering while I am off in my own world blabbering about my thoughts on the Universe, whether we’ll live to see the scientific proof of another galaxy beyond the Milky Way, and all of a sudden Nick will explode, “DID YOU SEE THAT HOUSE? THEY HAD ALL FRONT WINDOWS THAT WERE HUGE. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH NATURAL LIGHT THEY MUST GET?”
And I, again, dumbfounded that he doesn’t even get that excited over Xavier basketball or a Beanie Wells run, or a discounted oil change will reply, “Huh. Where?” I’ll strain my head, look in the rear view mirrors, “I didn’t see it. Darn.”
And just like the calm sea after a brief storm, Nick will return to his 98.6 degree body temperature. His eyes will return to their normal shade of blue-ish green, and the torrent of emotion will subside as he drives on.
So it was no surprise yesterday, out on a long walk and taking advantage of our 50 degree day, Nick says, “Guess what?”
“It’s 5:30pm now and look how light it is. Just think – next week, it’ll be this light out at 6:30pm!”
“Yes. Daylight savings time. Incredible.” I am bemused watching him practically skip down the sidewalk like a little boy.
I remain silent, enjoying his enjoyment.
“You know,” he continues, “I don’t even know what I’d be like if daylight savings time were on the same day as my birthday. I wouldn’t know what to be more excited for.”
“Mhm,” I speculate, “I’d air on the side of celebrating existence than natural light, but that’s just me.”
I don’t think Nick hears me. He is lost to the world, absorbing his joy of the impending spring.
And with that story, my friends, I am sure you will remember to jump your clocks forward an hour this weekend. I don’t know if Nick will be able to sleep the night before from his excitement.