The midsummer heat sears down on my head and shoulders, painting my skin another shade of tan with every outing. Tall grasses surround me and wave with the river wind, all long tendrils and blurs of yellow-green. If I close my eyes, there is first silence - then the buzz of insects, the flutter of wings, the shouts of children playing in a nearby field.
Summer stretches on, hot and lazy, as though it will never end. Even at night, the air is humid, but the taste of warmth always brings with it a sense of nostalgia, days of summer break and sprawling on the grass. Even if we can never return to the past, it remains part of us, traveling around and around in our blood. The air, the smells, the feelings of summers before; the sounds and tastes of the present. They overlap and melt into each other.