There’s something about showering with water that’s been heated by pure Florida sunshine that makes me feel like I’ve won some kind of homesteading lottery. Our solar-heated water tank might be one of my favorite “grown-up” decisions—right up there with planting fruit trees and buying that ridiculous hat I wear when I’m weeding.
Josh, of course, was skeptical at first. He’s the practical one. “What if it rains for a week?” he asked. I told him that’s what backup heating is for—and that if it rains for a week, we’ll both be too grumpy to care about water temperature anyway.
The setup is simple enough. A big tank sits outside, soaking up the sun, and by mid-afternoon, the water is hot enough to practically brew tea. I’ll be out there working in the garden, sweating through my overalls, and I’ll think, at least my shower’s getting hotter by the minute. There’s something poetic about that—sweat now, sunshine later.
Ethan thinks it’s hilarious that the sun “makes” our hot water. He calls it “solar soup.” The first time we used it, he ran into the house shouting, “Mom! The sun made our shower spicy!” I still can’t say that with a straight face.
The best part is the savings—less electricity, fewer guilt trips from the power bill, and more money for things that actually make life better (like chicken feed and iced coffee). Plus, it’s one of those rare things that feels both practical and kind of magical. I turn on the faucet, and the heat that touched the garden and the goats and the roof all day is suddenly in my hands.
Of course, there are days it doesn’t work perfectly. Cloudy days make it lukewarm, and once, I forgot to turn a valve, and Josh got a “refreshing” surprise shower. Let’s just say the neighbors probably heard his reaction.
But even with the hiccups, I love it. Every time I step under that sun-warmed water, I feel connected—to the day, to the work, to the ridiculous beauty of living in a place where sunshine does half the chores. It’s like nature’s little thank-you note for putting up with the humidity and mosquitoes. And honestly, I’ll take it.