I grew up before sunscreen was a thing. We were outside all day every day in the blazing sun without a care in the world and definitely not wearing hats or long-sleeved shirts. No Coppertone was ever rubbed on our limbs before we headed out the door. We swam in all sorts of ponds and brooks and pools and oceans, and the adults around us were all vigilant enough to make sure we did not slip below the surface, but sun exposure was the least of their worries. They chalked all of our sunburns up to a healthy glow. I watch my own children slather sunscreen on the grandchildren as the half pints race around the table screaming. In the event that they miss a spot or two, the children are well covered with huge bucket hats and rash guard shirts covering any exposed flesh. I can’t help but think of my dad when I see all of this. He threw caution to the wind and was a sun worshiper, spending hours outside with only a dab of nose coat on his face. He did develop a great tan back when that was a thing, and my sidekick was known to refer to him as Duke, short for Duke Kahanamoku, as he kind of looked the part of the famous Hawaiian surfer.
No one would ever confuse my pasty complexion with that of a surfer. So, when I am seeking that healthy glow, I look to the treetops for song birds who might fill the bill. In the spring and summer, many of them can be found on the top of a tree singing their hearts out awash in sunlight. One of my favorites, the Scarlet Tanager loves the tops of the trees, especially oak trees, and we are always craning our necks to catch a glimpse when we are on the New England Trail. The tanagers can be found in large tracts of deciduous forests where they gravitate towards oak trees and all the food oaks provide in terms of caterpillars and insects. The birds make a simple nest high in the trees with access to an easy fly route and lay 3-5 eggs in just one brood over the summer. You can hear their nasally call from the treetops and spot the male with his scarlet plumage or the less flashy female with her yellow ensemble. It is definitely worth a look. And if the tanager can be located on a branch in the sun, he is as splendid as any bird in these parts!
The male Scarlet Tanager rests high above in an oak tree after his long night flight across the Gulf of Mexico from South America. He will spend the breeding season here and then return south in winter plumage (greenish color with black wings).
So, unlike some of the local birds and my father, I am mostly avoiding the beating sun. I have heard enough “tsk tsking” from my doctor about sun damage and have struck up a relationship with a dermatologist. I suppose that goes with the territory of being a pasty girl slathered in baby oil and lying in the sun many moons ago. These days, environmentally friendly sunscreen and hats and visors have replaced my throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude from my earlier years. I have even succumbed to having a few suspect spots removed from my face in the past few years, and I have the scars to prove it.
But I have to hand it to the most recent surgery as the doctor spent extra time stitching me up while we talked about pickle ball. It was a topic right up his alley so he was in no hurry to get to his next patient. And I was the lucky one because he stitched me up with a real flourish employing all these exotic types of embroidery stitches way beyond the basics taught in med school. The end result is that I now have this caterpillar- like scar crawling across my cheek, I am fine with that but the icing on the cake is that this raised scar feels just like the night crawlers that I spent my childhood catching. I can barely keep my hands off of it, and I hope I do not wear it down with excessive fondling. What a way to go!