Summer. Not just a holiday. Warm lawns sprawling into unfathomably blue abysses—asphalt haze, heat waves, cool beds, lazy days. Driftwood scarred with lovers' names. Hypnotic flip-flops abandoned in the surf. Bottle-green lakes inviting its bronzed tenants back with watery aplomb. Summer is everything school isn’t.
The days pool into too-hot-to-sleep nights and too-hot-to-move days dripping with water from the hose. Fat, ripe balloons jiggle in culptive hands, only to burst over a fleeing backside the next. A brigade of firearms bring up the rear. Those musty shorts, left unironed in the bottom of your drawer all this time, can finally taste the grass-stained, sun-kissed amour of another unbidden two months. Summer is more than just a temporary affair. It’s one that will carry you into a new year. The friends you choose to keep will be the ones whose faces will be imprinted in the memory of your summer forever, and those you choose to set adrift, well, they probably weren’t memorable enough to keep around in the first place. My memories of summers are tanning on asphalt roofs, battling back mosquitoes from the warmth of our sleeping bags, and setting the sprinkler on under the trampoline. Don’t forget those once-in-a-lifetime nights that seem to occur on a weekly basis in the summertime. It’s a dreamworld that, despite the work-friends-work schedule, the teenage race succumbs to for two months out of the whole year.
And can you blame us?