Summer begins this weekend with the solstice, and I can feel it in my bones. The sunlight gives me energy and strength, and I feel like a tree stretching up and out into the sky. I can see the sunset in the north-west, and imagine the ring of light on the horizon in Whitehorse. I want to go there some day to experience the midnight sun in person.
Summer makes me want to take long road trips, driving with the windows down. I imagine driving through New Brunswick at dusk, with the smell of grass and trees blowing into the car on balmy air, vigilant for wandering moose. The Mounties made the perfect song for this, and I'm sad that Drew and I won't be making our annual pilgrimage to PEI this year so that I could sing along to it while flying down Highway 2.
Instead, we're going to Chicago for five days in August, and we're going to spend a lot of time celebrating happy occasions with friends. We will be dancing at weddings until the early morning hours, with stars in our eyes and cocktails in our hands. No coats, no socks, open air, and dewy grass.
We're going to picnic, and frisbee, and bike, and lie by the water. We're going to work, too, but we're going to be watching out the windows until we can get back outside. We're going to wear sunscreen and get tan lines anyway. We're going to sleep with the windows open, and drink coffee on the roof. We're going to pick strawberries and eat them until we don't feel so good, then freeze the rest to make jam in September. We're going to drink much beer on many patios. We're going to wear sandals and tank tops.
We're going to wish summer lasted forever and lament how fast it goes. We're going to look forward to autumn and anticipate the change it brings.