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for the love of light

In an ideal world, summer heat is always pleasant and never becomes stifling, there is no humidity so thick, heavy and wet that walking outside risks drowning in the air, and the mosquitoes are all somewhere else. Though this ideal world is only an ideal, those nuisances we may wish away are things we’re willing to put up with in order to have the rest of it, and it is a fair deal:

Summer spills over with long days of sun, lazy golden sun, and nights on porches listening to the growling thunder making its deliberate approach from someplace far, far away. It is ice cream in waffle cones and cotton candy at the fair. And fireflies (they must be fairies) flirting with the grass and the leaves in the trees, those leaves that rustle slushy percussion at the prompting of the constant fresh breeze. Barbecues and beer and the sweet, sweet smell of freshly-mown hay. Days at the beach, toes in the sand, books to read, naps to take. Vacations and parties and tea in tall glasses full of clinking ice. Moments outside, with wildflowers tickling our bare legs.

-- jamelah

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