The windows in The Dungeon face east, and that’s the direction I face when sitting and working at my computer. On sunny days like today I will be greeted by the sun. Since we are not far from solstice, the sun, as it frees itself from the horizon, comes blazing through the windows into my eyes. I have to adjust myself in the chair, lean a little to the left, so that the sun is blocked. Otherwise, I’m sure my eyes would become painful and eventually I’d go blind. Oh, the windows have blinds, long vertical slats that go to the floor (well below the window bottoms), but the tangle of computer cords causes the slats to separate and allow the bright rays to come in.
This condition lasts only a few minutes. The sun rises above the cut-out at the back of the upper unit of my computer desk, and the sun no longer torments me. I can shift my torso back to upright. At some point this spring/summer the sun will rise early enough that perhaps it will already be above the critical point when I arrive in The Dungeon to start my workday. But, by then other conditions will have changed as well.
Right now, the woods behind our house are at or just past their barest point. The Bradford pears have bloomed and just leafed out. The wild dogwoods are blooming. The oaks are a couple of weeks away from their initial budding. But, the pin oak trees among them have finally lost their leaves. Yes, those pin oak leaves hold on through the winter, dropping in the early spring just before everything else starts to bud. Once the oaks do bud then leaf out, the sun will be totally blocked until it is well up above that desk cut-out. I will come to The Dungeon when it is lighter and not be bothered by the sun.
With the solar disk so bright, and with the windows so dirty, and with the slats blocking much of what would otherwise be visible, what do I see? Bare oak branches show from the nearest trees, and behind them the mass of trees on the other side of the hollow. They are, perhaps, seven hundred feet away. If I would stand up and find a good viewport through the windows I might just barely see thy walking/hiking/biking trail, in the hollow. I walk that trail a fair amount and, until the oak forest leafs out, can see our house from it.
You wonder what the point of this post is. I’m not sure I have one. Just thought I’d take a post now and then to record something of interest. The hollow behind our house is unplatted land, belonging to the POA. It is considered unbuildable due to the steep slopes. However, if hard times would come, I’m sure the POA would figure out a way to build on it and homes would spring up. Given the nature of the geology, it would have to be very hard times indeed. So, we are destined to have a wooded valley behind us for as long as we stay here.
It is now just after 10 a.m. The sun has moved higher and way around to the right. It no longer bothers me or causes me to dodge and weave to avoid looking directly at it. The eastern sky, what little I can see of it, appears cloudy. The tree trunks at the edge of the forest aren’t bright. It would appear that cloudy conditions are developing.
The day is starting to drag. I’ve been looking for maps to illustrate my novel and am having trouble finding suitable ones. Before much more looking passes I’ll just break down and draw my own. My cold is better, but I think I need one more day before I resume walking. Friday is April 2, Good Friday. It will be the day for me to post my progress and plans for the month. I’ll see you all then.