So now I can look forward to the long, wonderful summer ahead. There are a few things I've got to do.
1: find a field like this that I can lay out in and read to my heart's content.
2: find some awesome colored nailpolish to use all summer.
3: put together some really cute outfits (and have another photoshoot with Madi!)
Summer is the feeling of relief.The feeling of warmth and sand,That is summer.Summer swoops in like a newly-christened hawk;Her eye is like the golden sun and her beak a sounding call, reaching everyone and urging them to let go of their griefs that they are clutching to their chests in the form of term papers and poorly written mathematic books.Summer is a lioness cub; golden in tone but youthful in spirit and longing to come out and frolic in the glowing aura of the sun. Summer can be found in the bronze silk textures of wheat fields, flowing under the wings of the wind like a rising tide of the billowing clothing of a sailboat, sprinting across the wavy roof of the ocean as seagulls navigate its course.The happiness that is summer can be reached by traveling to the end of an educational year and entering into one of pursuit, laughter, and the epiphany that comes with rubbing an adolescent kitten between its ears.Where can one find Summer?Her shimmering hair flows from beyond the scented hay of autumn, through the silence of the winter months. Her eyes begin to focus upon the regions ot April and May, but fade every now and then.The June flower nods her head back and forth; she knows her time to flourish has come, as a cherry red ladybeetle knows when to take flight.Close your eyes. Where is Summer?Nearer, nearer.In the wind and in the rain. In the chirp of a downy chick.Summer has come.
What are your plans for this summer?--Mary Catherine
I woke up to find my lilac comforter entangled around my legs like some sort of fish netting. That was the first thing I noticed. The second thing that came to mind was the absence of a blaring alarm. I never woke up before it. I turned to look at my clock, resting on the bedstand. It was 10:00. Normally by this time I would be in my second hour of classes, sitting in a cramped desk and staring at the wall until it began to take the pattern of colored dots.
So what had happened that allowed me to sleep entirely late?
Was it sickness? I cleared my throat. No cough hindered it. Perhaps my mother had actually taken pity on me and let me skip today.
I snorted and sat up in bed. Likely story.
Perhaps it was a Saturday.
But even on a Saturday, I would have woken up to the scent of bacon and pancakes, our traditional weekend breakfast.
I stretched out underneath the covers and noticed the golden aura of the sun beaming through the window. The air conditioning was cooling the room and I saw that I had laid out shorts and flip-flops to wear. That's when I remembered.
It was summer.