Summer days are made of ice creams with waffle cones. They are made of sticky thighs and sunshine and sweat and chlorinated pools.
Summer days are made of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald. They are long and hot and a time to make memories with family and friends and in places never traveled before.
My dad was a summer baby. His birthday was sometime in June. With his passing, I’m reminded of his birth. I wonder, sometimes, what he was like as a baby. I ask my grandmother of the details sometimes, but her memory fails. She can’t remember.
Summer days are family reunions and barbecues and concerts in the park. Summer days are made for plastic pools and sunscreen and sunglasses.
Summer days are beautiful. Summer nights are golden. Summer is my favorite season…right now. 😉
What words come to mind when you think of summer?