Here's something rather interesting about the sun, and stars in general, in regard to light. A single photon (a particle of light) takes about 8 minutes and nineteen seconds to travel from the surface of the sun to the surface of the Earth. The photon, is, of course, traveling at the speed of light through space, and the earth is about 8.3 light-seconds away from the sun (and light travels at a staggering 670,600,000 miles per hour). However, after that photon is created at the center of the sun as a result of fusion at the sun's core, it takes somewhere between one hundred thousand to ten million years to make it to the sun's surface.

What?

See, the sun is simply too dense for the photon to go straight out (if it could, it would take less than three seconds to reach the surface). Instead, it makes it only a centimeter or less before it slams right into some atom or another. When it does, the atom absorbs and re-emits it. But here's the crazy part: it re-emits it in a completely random direction. This causes the photon to make what is commonly referred to as a "random walk" through the sun, slamming into atom after atom and going in a completely random direction each time. At minimum, the photon would have to take about 100 billion steps to make it to the sun's surface, if it were to be re-emitted in exactly the right direction every time. But that chances of that happening are so close to zero that it will likely never happen for any photon in the lifetime of the sun. Instead, it wanders all over the place, sometimes getting closer, sometimes getting further away from the sun's surface, for a minimum of about a thousand years.

Like the world's most confusing rainbow, or second-most confusing subway map

Above I said 100,000 to 10,000,000 years, though, and I meant it. On average, that's how long a photon will take to make it out of the sun. The thousand-year minimum is just that—a minimum. That's if everything goes right in a probabilistically favorable way (unlike the probabilistically impossibly 100 billion steps all in the right direction). In reality, everything doesn't go right, and it takes a long, long time for a photon to make it to the surface.

You can try this for yourself at a very limited scale: Draw a circle with a radius of a few centimeters/inches. Then, draw a dot in the center. Grab a die and roll it (the more sides the die has, the better, but I'm betting that not everyone is a tabletop RPG nerd like myself has has dice with as high as 30 sides lying around). Divide 360 by the number of sides on the die, and, starting from the top, measure about (360 / # sides of the die) x (number rolled on the die) degrees around the circle (it's OK to approximate). At that angle, draw a straight line of one centimeter/inch. Repeat the same process, but starting at the new point. Keep doing this until you reach the edge of the circle. It'll take a lot longer than you think. Now a photon is doing this with a die with an infinite (OK, not really, but a really, really large number) number of sides, and it's doing it in three dimensions, rather than the two you're doing your experiment with. And it's trying to make it 696300 kilometers (69.63 billion centimeters), or 432,288 miles (27.42 billion inches). Now, maybe you can see why it takes hundreds of thousands to millions of years to make it out.

So the light that you see when you look outside is a lot older than you think. The photons that hit you every time you look out a window or take a walk outside are easily older than human civilization, and may even pre-date Homo erectus, the precursor to our own species, Homo sapiens. And if that isn't something rather interesting about the sun, I don't know what is.