There are countless Beatles songs that people call their favorite, but for me, it’s always been Here Comes The Sun. My connection to it goes back to when I was thirteen, spending weekends at my friend David’s house.
David usually woke up before me, and he had a ritual: he’d put on side two of Abbey Road. That side begins with Here Comes The Sun, so I would wake up to George Harrison’s gentle guitar and hopeful lyrics. It wasn’t just music—it was the soundtrack to mornings filled with friendship, discovery, and a sense of belonging.
David’s house was full of things I didn’t have at mine: slot cars, photography, art, skateboards, and stacks of popular music. As the middle child of five, he had older siblings who opened doors for me—introducing me to ideas, hobbies, and experiences I hadn’t been exposed to as the oldest of six in my own family. Those weekends felt like stepping into a different, very colorful world.
That’s why Here Comes The Sun means so much to me. It’s not only a song about hope and renewal—it’s tied to the warmth of friendship, the joy of waking up to something new, and the feeling of being welcomed into a family that broadened my horizons. Every time I hear it, I’m thirteen again, waking up to sunlight and music in David’s house, grateful for the simple beauty of those mornings.
Thank you, David, for your friendship and love. I miss you. You were such a gifted photographer and artist, and I often wish we had been able to share time together exploring photography. I only discovered photography as a hobby after you were gone, and I think of you often when I’m behind the lens. In your honor, I’m sharing some sunrise photos I’ve taken over the past few years—moments of light that remind me of you.
