what summer truly is

For many people, the word 'summer' is tan skin, beach boys, bikinis, staying out late, getting in trouble and wearing short shorts. But I think that 'summer' is the turning of book pages; the dribble of peach juice down my chin; the taste of sweet corn; the freedom to be who I truly am; the sound of a plane as it lands on unfamiliar soil; the fizzle and bang of sparklers; the scratch of pen against paper; unleashing my mind to the sights and sounds; the dusky light as I lean against the porch railing with my camera around my neck. Summer is abstract and physical at the same time; it is a harmony of moments and thoughts. If summer isn't the time to take down the walls and be the person behind the mask, then what is?


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