When I was five years old, I had the best morning. I believe it was in the summer, although my memory is not strong enough to recall the exact season. My laundry had just been done by my loving mother and was left in a basket upstairs. I had just woken up and was ready to get dressed. I remembered that my favorite shirt had been dirty, and since my mother had just cleaned the laundry, I assumed it must be in the basket.

I ignored all of my folded and sorted shirts and began ruffling through the basket. The second level of the house had huge windows that took up the majority of the wall space. The basket was located right next to one of these windows, and sunbeams were shining through strongly. I battled the unfolded laundry, but to no avail—I couldn’t find it. Disappointed, I shared my failure with my mother in hopes that she could help. Of course, she did, easily picking it out with her wisdom and laundry prowess.

She handed it to me. Facing the window, I held up my beloved shirt. A soccer ball design took up the center, while the rest was an evergreen color. It was made of polyester micro-mesh, so the sun shone through all the tiny holes. This moment burned into my memory. When I was done appreciating the shirt, the sun, and the world, I put it on. My mom gave me a kiss, and my memory ends there. I most likely ran around and had a wonderful day afterward, but I have no clue.

This essay is about discovering why this moment has stayed with me and why it felt so impactful. From that moment, I can’t remember anything until I was about seven years old, making this the earliest memory I have. But why? It was just a shirt, and my mom kissed my forehead and helped me find things many more times after this moment. The simple answer would be that I felt loved and happy to have my shirt, but I suspect otherwise.

When I had my amazing shirt experience, and for many years after, I believed it was my love and attachment to the shirt that caused this emotion to stir within me. However, over the years, I have created new memories—some good and some bad—and a pattern has emerged. Just like my magical shirt moment, most of my positive memories include the sun. Throughout my life journey, I’ve been deeply affected by it: feeling tired and cold without it, and energized and warm when it’s present.

I have now found a new meaning as to why this memory has stuck with me. Perhaps it was the first time my subconscious recognized the brilliance and beauty of the sun. It purifies and simplifies life, allowing you to see everything more clearly.

Most of us, whether we realize it or not, are affected by the sun in a positive way. When you are in the midst of a rainy, foggy day, it can make you tired, emotional, and less productive. When it’s sunny, you feel the need to be outside and active, and you are more willing to smile. If you think back on your own memories, as I am now, you’ll likely notice that many of your positive memories happened on sunny days.

I have learned two things during this mental reflection on my past. One is that the sun and clear skies are very important to my positivity and productivity. The other is my belief that the sun affects which memories we remember fondly and which fade over time. If it was sunny and something positive and unique happened, there’s a good chance it will evolve into a long-term memory. And who knows—maybe ten years later, you’ll reflect on it and realize it wasn’t actually the sun that made your memory so special.