These are poetry writing days and thick novel reading days. These are being in three cities in one week days. These are days of movies projected on our deck and summer lanterns illuminating the darkness. These are days of scribbled down dreams and fulfillments, every day’s activities mirroring the summer weather – perhaps sunny at one moment and then thunderstorms at the next. These are the days of contentment and of childhood beckonings. These are the days of laughter and nonsense late at night, as no one cares about the time. These are the days of allowing ourselves to think different – and we learn to know ourselves raw and real as the sun exposes our shadows.
Yes, these are the days. Summer leaves you with feeling of riding a bike with wind rippling through your hair as you go faster and faster, and maybe getting a bit dizzy but you don’t stop.