a mattress made of sand, yielding afternoon naps so satisfying, decades later you’ll still crave them like you pine for heat on a frosty, january morning.
lapping waves become truth serum dripping into your brain, coaxing out secrets, confessions, and desires long buried with the barbies, coloring books, and the naiveté of believing you really could conquer it all.
the anonymity and the asylum of shade.
a time out from the scorch and raw glare of a midday, extroverted sun who demands all your attention, exposure, and vulnerability.
a mid-day board meeting at the shore.
a middle finger to the iphone, the calendar, and boss.
playing outdoor footsie under a table for two.
where the best party invitations include the words “pants optional.”
impromptu slumber parties under the strict supervision of the moon and starlight.
summer is not knowing what’s at the bottom, but trusting it will be a thrill.
it’s take-a-running-start for an even bigger splash!
summer is officially here.
are you as giddy as i am?
what does summer mean for you?
you are such an incredible writer.