Dreaming of Summer

I don’t have a favorite season. If I had to pick I would say summer. But it’s not so much the season itself as the feelings it brings. Rain on a window pane and snow falling silently are great things, but summer just has more of them.

My favorite feelings are waking up to light streaming through the window and birds chirping, leaving without pausing to wonder if I need a jacket. It’s pockets of shade in the shadow of rustling trees, the feeling of the words ‘leisurely stroll’ as they meander off your tongue. It’s finding a sunlit patch of daises for a pillow and cool grass for your feet. Afternoons of hair dried by the sun and wet again by the lake. The thrill of heights and the release of fear as you crash into cold water. Smoke in your sweatshirt, on your pillowcase, days after returning home, just so you can remember how the fire warmed your bones. Straining your head towards the window by your bed to catch a cool breeze and hearing a chorus of crickets.

It’s the first sip of an icy drink on a hot day, the feeling of a small splurge well spent. It’s the dirty bare feet feeling, being comfortably warm on a cool night from running around like kids. The feeling you get when it’s sunset and everything is as it should be, suspended in that moment in a haze of golden light. It’s dinner with family outside, with strawberries from the garden for dessert, and everyone stays a little longer than usual.

It is also the Saturday night kind of neon glow from a café downtown, standing in the bed of a truck as the wind tears through outstretched arms. It’s music that pairs with the moment sweeter than anything else you can describe- Sedona on a night drive, Jack Johnson as pancakes sizzle at 9:30 on a weekend, Take It Easy as you watch the wheat fields and big wheels roll by, worship songs on a guitar as your friends sing on the porch.

It’s the roar of the road with the windows down, the sound of zippers and car doors, keys and prancing paws. The numbness of my legs as the ocean washes over them and the sand gets in your hair. The relief of throwing off a pack from your sweaty back and wading into icy water. It’s the feeling of rounding the last corner and seeing the curvature of the earth before you, but equally, rounding the last corner and seeing the parking lot come into view.

But ultimately, it’s the feeling you get when you look up at a sky packed with stars and know that you are truly small, and are perfectly okay with that too.

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