Summer gathered in the weather, the wind had the proper touch, the breathing of the world was long and warm and slow. You had only to rise, lean from your window, and know that this indeed was the first real time of freedom and living, this was the first morning of summer. (from Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury)
Summer has always been my favorite season. I much prefer the weather in spring and fall, at least here in West Texas. But something deep, deep inside me yearns all year round for heat and snow cones and swimming pools, for days that open wide with possibility and stretch in length and savoriness, for the cool hours of morning and evening, even for the irritating din of cicadas. Even in the midst of 100 degree temperatures, when walking outside for a brief moment leaves me drenched in sweat, when the steering wheel of my car burns the palms of my hands, I can never hold onto the sense of discomfort; it is all overridden by the glorious feeling of freedom.
That’s what summer has always been about for me–freedom. Anything seems possible during this season. Everything seems more vivid. Life seems more real and it is somehow easier to just be present and soak in the moments as they come along. I was never much for scheming in the summertime, and much more for doing. And I think, maybe, that this is how we’re supposed to live.
I hope your summertime has been blessed thus far, and that freedom and life are waiting for you in the days to come!