Sunny spellbound

Right now in Ireland we are going through a national heatwave (highs of 28-29°C, y'all!!) and there is room in people’s minds for little else. All we can think about is nabbing the perfect spot at the beach, devouring our ice-creams before they melt, and being sure to lather on enough factor 50 to protect our delicate skin. We’re stressed out from it all, but at the same time, we love it. Therefore, it felt right to dedicate this week’s blog post to the sunshine and the impact it can have on our mood.

Let me be the first to say that I low-key can’t cope with the fact that I am writing about the weather. This is literally the stuff of small-talk parody, and no-one is more aware of that than me. Having said that, I for one have always felt a deep emotional connection to balmy weather as it brings back the best memories: family days out at the beach as a child making sandcastle villages (yes, villages - the Trenchs were extra), holidays in France biking around the countryside and cannon-balling into the pool; and, as an adult, sipping cider in beer gardens with friends playing tunes and having the chats. Even just the whiff of suncream or a mouthful of Kopperberg can catapult me right back in time to those carefree days under the sun.

I think in Ireland too we tend to have these visceral reactions to sunny weather due to the fact that it appears so rarely here. This little island in north-western Europe is notorious for mild, damp weather all year round, excepting of course for the mandatory 3-week period of sunshine in June, known scientifically as ‘Leaving Cert weather’. That is why, when there is a sunny spell on the horizon, or while it is actually occurring, or after it is long gone, it dominates our talk as a nation. It is compulsory to start every social interaction with a sundry phrase about the weather, anything from “‘Tis gorgeous, isn’t it?” and “You’d melt!” to "I hear it's meant to last 'til next Tuesday", before the conversation naturally gravitates towards the sharing of wild weather-related news stories, anything from the local shop running out of Flakes for the 99 machine to someone’s next-door neighbour falling asleep in the patio deckchair and getting scalded alive. Many will complain that the heat is too much, that they're 'smothered', and of course as the sun quickly becomes rain in a matter of days, we’re back to giving out about the rain. It’s a vicious cycle.

But does the sunshine have an actual affect on our mood, or is that just because, for us Irish at least, absence makes the heart grow fonder? While a 2016 article by PsychologyToday compiles evidence against for the nay-sayers, another article by Trafalgar from earlier this year summarises a number of studies linking sunny weather to a more positive mood for one, with such findings as:

• Reduced stress from being outdoors in the sunshine

• Extended daylight = extended happiness

• An increased likelihood of exercising when the weather is warmer

• Higher levels of socialising due to more people enjoying the weather outdoors

There are also those songs that have hard-wired our brains to remind us of the summers of yore and, even in the depths of winter, make us want to throw on our swimsuits and have a pool party - namely Avicii - Levels, Katy Perry - California Gurls, and anything by Kygo, basically. And yes I am blasting those exact hits right now for inspiration as I type this. Of that, you can be guaranteed.

For most of us, I think it is fair to say that when we are breathing fresh air and feeling the sunlight on our faces, we simply feel more content. With everything that has happened with the pandemic in the last 18 months, sunny spells and clear skies cause us - just for a second - to forget about it all. Personally, I feel almost invulnerable to bad news - nothing can get me down if the sun is up. Everything seems better and more positive, and there is a sense of excitement in the air, like anything can happen.

Right, less talk from me, more sun-worshipping for all. Layer up your SPF, go outside with a book, a drink, or a hurley and sliotar, and enjoy the sun before it decides to hit the road and we’re all miserable again.