Sun Day

every Ottawan longs for the same momentous day of the year. no, not the day the canal opens for skating; (certainly) not Canada Day; not the day when we find out whether the Sens have made the playoffs either (though yesterday afternoon's elgin street party may suggest otherwise).

no: what Ottawans collectively and viscerally yearn for is today -- Sun Day! the first day of the calendar year when we can finally go outside without having to wear a balaclava and waffle-textured undergarments. the day when people are instantly pulled from the depths of their months-long winter bitterness and reach new heights of delirious optimism.

and so, outside, the patios are once again busting at the seams with giddy patrons. and the east shore of the canal is newly littered with bikini'd women (while piles of snow still cover the ground on the opposite side of the currently unkempt waterway).

enthusiasm is equally "everywhere" inside the coffee shops. iced teas and lemonades are the order of the day; a six-year-old boy has just wrapped his little mouth eagerly around the spout of the self-serve metal cooler that dispenses citrus water (sucking plenty hard on the teat); and, through a big-but-bashful smile, an eight-year-old girl is now waving vigorously at me from across the way.

Little Eight's enthusiasm is particularly notable because, after sitting down with her family, she proceeds to pass by me some ten times, deliberately trying to make eye contact with me, each time throwing a giant grin my way but never saying anything, in spite of my returned smiles and eventual hello.

she's clearly coming up with excuses to pass by -- throwing a straw in the nearby garbage; fetching yet another glass of citrus water (evidently unaware of Little Six's earlier visit). she seems to know me. but i have no idea who she is or how i've managed to attract her wonderful attention. (admittedly, i start to wonder whether i have some lunchtime burrito bits trapped in my hair.)

then i remember how things often come in threes. in this case, the threes of familiar-ish faces:

ONE: when i first arrived at the caé, i saw the lookalike of a guy i briefly dated a couple of years ago (a kind of hallucination that required an anxiety-ridden double-take to confirm away).
TWO: while in line, i ended up beside the manager of one of the campus coffee shops (who awkwardly seemed to not want to recognize me).
THREE: this little girl, who -- i now realize -- i saw for the first time earlier this morning. she was in the elevator with her mom, heading out for a bike ride together, and had been just as shy-meets-smiley then, saying goodbye to me with that same enthusiastic wave as i exited our apartment building lobby.

this is, i think, what we really love about Sun Day: in the wake of winter's inadvertent everyday scowling, Sun Day brings smiles that are delivered repeatedly and for no reason at all.

and now back to translating...