Picnics in the park

I love summer. I shamelessly love it. I love summer an indecent amount. I revel in sunshine and summer storms. Yes, I love the rain and hail too! I love summer unconditionally and full throttle, nothing held in reserve.

As soon as June clicks in on the calendar, there is a slow internal count down that happens within me. And if you live in northern latitudes, you know when that count down stops; the day when you know that summer is over and it is fall. The end of summer where I live comes early, sometime in September.

Now it isn’t that I dislike the fall or the winter, I actually like them quite a lot. But it is a ‘like’ bordering, teetering, on love, similar to the depth of love you could feel on a first date. Full of possibilities, but there is something just… Hmm… odd about the season. And spring, well spring is just a gateway drug to summer.

The absolute best part of the summers where I live is that they are short. Yes, short. This glorious season, that I love, is best short. Because this wonderful sun only lasts a few short months, every moment is claimed. There is a space that opens up in life when everyday is savored to the fullest, and that savoring is easy in the summer. So even on a Monday night after working all day, it is the perfect opportunity to picnic in the park, just because the sun is shining.

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