Summertime

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It’s not summer yet. But I feel the change rippling through the air.

There’s a distinctive sound of cricket song making the air shimmer at night.

The sun hits the leaves just right at dusk and makes them glow green-gold.

The air smells of memories. You know what it’s like, smelling a memory? You take a deep breath in and suddenly you forget your age and remember what it was like to wake up on Saturday morning and notice the dust specks floating in the air and nothing else.

The sun hits your skin and makes it ring at a specific frequency. Suddenly you’re browner (or pinker) and freckles flicker into view like stars at sunset.

And the air feels heavy. Heavy with oncoming storms. Heavy air wet from rain and children clambering out of swimming pools for ice cream.

Heavy with possibilities. 

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