summertime
summer is a light breeze prickling your face as you recline on a scratchy blanket and gaze up at a night dotted with stars, riddled with holes that look like freckles. the croaking of grasshoppers and the rustling of leaves and the sounds of faraway cars swelling in and out, in peaceful lulls that leave you wondering if they were born of imagination or reality. everything faraway, put on mute, and it’s just you and the universe. feeling the mounds of brown soil shift and mold between your toes. squint and search for constellations with a heavy telescope, looking for something beyond yourself.
summer is waking up to rays of sunlight scattered on your bed and a dry spot on your tongue. the light seems to seep through your hardened bones and joints, filling your body with a sense of warmth and softness that doesn’t fade away. an alarm clock with a worn-out snooze button, 11:27 am emblazoned in fire-truck red. pull back creased cotton curtains and watch as the sunlight pours in like sweet, tangy lemonade filling a glass cup. soaking the world as you know it in light, and fielding away the dark shadows for a little while longer.
summer is pushing open the door to a deep blue sky, so perfect and spotless it looks artificial. the sky has been wrapped in little sheets of gossamer, like a gift or a candy being presented to some larger being. the intensity of the sun surprises you as you open the car door, gingerly buckling a burning seatbelt and suspending your legs, trying not to scorch them and praying the air-conditioner kicks in soon. arm out the open window, catching the air like those discount dreamcatchers you found at a garage sale. kids furiously pedaling their plastic toy bikes as watchful mothers tail behind, enthusiastic entrepreneurs advertising from behind lemonade stands.
summer is the moment you recognize your friend, eyes widen, and you both run to each other, marveling at how they’ve changed. hugging tightly as if you’ve never hugged before. remarking that they’re taller with bemusement. walking with them to a quiet park and divulging all your latest secrets, joining two paths at an intersection of what’s been happening in your lives. sipping an icy boba tea and nodding enthusiastically as they complain about their enforced curfews and belligerent exes. watching the sun begin its colorful descent, merging with the horizon, scarlet and crimson and orange and violet and pink exploding across the sky, eventually darkening to black. one last hug and a wave goodbye as you flip through photos and savor how fun it was. the sudden realization that everything, anything is better when you’re sharing it with someone you love.
summer is the bliss of oranges bursting on your tongue, the moment of anticipation before a juicy grape pops in your mouth. a banquet of grilled chicken, red strawberries cut into halves, and slices of dripping watermelon peppered with those black seeds you love to collect and dry. flavorful aromas mingling into a rich and savory one, filled with scents you thought would never blend well together. laughter and conversation swirling around, the feeling of being part of something. a comfy contentedness as you settle back and recline, never wanting it to end.