Sunlight's Warm Glowing Warming Glow
October in Iowa means shorter days and cooler temperatures. This is the optimal time to enjoy cooler weather, perfect for playing football, working in the yard with a nip on your nose, and firing up the oven to bake delicious treats like banana bread. Of course I have a toddler daughter with twins on the way and don’t have time for something as frivolous as football. We also have no yard to work in. And the mercury hit 80 yesterday, or at least the LCD numbers on my thermometer hit 80, so turning on the oven was about the last thing I wanted to do, right down there with seeing the new Cameron Crowe movie (assuming I had the time to see a movie).
The days are still getting shorter though, and that necessitates a change in Abbie’s park routine. During the summer when the daytime sun was hot enough to melt our shoes as we navigated the asphalt in front of the park, we stayed out of the park during the hottest parts of the day. We spent our afternoons huddled in air conditioning or roaming the backyard where we could at least stick to the shade and completely avoid any asphalt radiating heat at a temperature suitable for baking banana bread.
After eating and cleaning up supper, the sun was at least low in the sky and asphalt temperatures had fallen to a nice level for jerky preparation. This was our park time, and Abbie enjoyed it for sometimes an hour or more. We would leave when bedtime approached, when she somehow tired of the bounty of available playground equipment, or when the mosquitoes increased to the point of threatening to carry one of us away.
As recently as six weeks ago we still enjoyed the playground right up until bedtime with waning daylight. Then September hit and I noticed that the streetlamps by the park were taking full effect a little before bedtime. Then they started taking full effect long before bedtime. Then the mosquitoes, no longer held at bay by the fading sunlight, appeared in full force, looking for blood and willing to attack ten at a time in the hopes that at least one would escape with a bloated tummy or whatever organ they store their food in. At this point I decided nighttimes in the park should end; it just didn’t feel safe being outdoors in a public place with a toddler after the sun goes down what with all those mosquitoes buzzing menacingly.
Now we spend our afternoons in the park when we can enjoy the sunlight’s, um, light. We also enjoy the sunlight’s warmth as the days cool, assuming that they indeed cool from yesterday’s sweltering 80 degrees.
The big drawback so far to the park now is that static electricity builds easier. One of Abbie’s favorite pieces of playground equipment is the slide. It’s about 8-feet long and plastic, perfect for storing and transferring static electricity as her cotton clothes slide along its surface. Static isn’t much of a problem in the summer when the air is moist since static, much like the common house cat, hates water. Now that the air has cooled and the air resembles that of a Colorado summer, dry and cool at night but without that pesky mountain fresh scent, static flies freely between the slide and the toddler. Every time I touch her after a trip down the slide, and I have to touch her after every trip down the slide because heaven forbid she climb back up without my help, we create a spark. This past week we’ve created great big sparks, the kind that makes noise, leave a mark, and emits enough light to temporarily frighten away the nearby mosquito hordes. I expect her to scream one of these times after being shocked, but apparently she’s learned and accepted the fact that being shocked is the price she pays for sliding. Considering that she’s unable to wait the five seconds required for me to assemble her sippy cup before pouring milk in it without breaking down into tears, that’s quite an accomplishment for her. When I have a toddler that devoted to the playground, I have to find a time to take her out there. As long as the temperature stays near 80, or at least above 50, we’ll be out there.
The days are still getting shorter though, and that necessitates a change in Abbie’s park routine. During the summer when the daytime sun was hot enough to melt our shoes as we navigated the asphalt in front of the park, we stayed out of the park during the hottest parts of the day. We spent our afternoons huddled in air conditioning or roaming the backyard where we could at least stick to the shade and completely avoid any asphalt radiating heat at a temperature suitable for baking banana bread.
After eating and cleaning up supper, the sun was at least low in the sky and asphalt temperatures had fallen to a nice level for jerky preparation. This was our park time, and Abbie enjoyed it for sometimes an hour or more. We would leave when bedtime approached, when she somehow tired of the bounty of available playground equipment, or when the mosquitoes increased to the point of threatening to carry one of us away.
As recently as six weeks ago we still enjoyed the playground right up until bedtime with waning daylight. Then September hit and I noticed that the streetlamps by the park were taking full effect a little before bedtime. Then they started taking full effect long before bedtime. Then the mosquitoes, no longer held at bay by the fading sunlight, appeared in full force, looking for blood and willing to attack ten at a time in the hopes that at least one would escape with a bloated tummy or whatever organ they store their food in. At this point I decided nighttimes in the park should end; it just didn’t feel safe being outdoors in a public place with a toddler after the sun goes down what with all those mosquitoes buzzing menacingly.
Now we spend our afternoons in the park when we can enjoy the sunlight’s, um, light. We also enjoy the sunlight’s warmth as the days cool, assuming that they indeed cool from yesterday’s sweltering 80 degrees.
The big drawback so far to the park now is that static electricity builds easier. One of Abbie’s favorite pieces of playground equipment is the slide. It’s about 8-feet long and plastic, perfect for storing and transferring static electricity as her cotton clothes slide along its surface. Static isn’t much of a problem in the summer when the air is moist since static, much like the common house cat, hates water. Now that the air has cooled and the air resembles that of a Colorado summer, dry and cool at night but without that pesky mountain fresh scent, static flies freely between the slide and the toddler. Every time I touch her after a trip down the slide, and I have to touch her after every trip down the slide because heaven forbid she climb back up without my help, we create a spark. This past week we’ve created great big sparks, the kind that makes noise, leave a mark, and emits enough light to temporarily frighten away the nearby mosquito hordes. I expect her to scream one of these times after being shocked, but apparently she’s learned and accepted the fact that being shocked is the price she pays for sliding. Considering that she’s unable to wait the five seconds required for me to assemble her sippy cup before pouring milk in it without breaking down into tears, that’s quite an accomplishment for her. When I have a toddler that devoted to the playground, I have to find a time to take her out there. As long as the temperature stays near 80, or at least above 50, we’ll be out there.
posted by Matt at
10:04 PM
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