Hotstickysweet Summertime

I love the fall season. I love the colors. I love soft, cozy sweaters. I love rain and the weather that consists of something other than harsh, glaring sunshine. I love the coffee and steaming mugs of apple cider. I love the smell and the cooler temperatures. I love that the holidays are just around the corner and family and days off from work will soon be plentiful. I love the lights and the general feeling of goodwill (as long as you are away from the mall) that the season generates. I really do love the fall.

But then the late winter months roll through and man-oh-man, am I ready for summer. Seems like other people are too. Thom's blog today talked about his plans and aspirations for the upcoming summer months. At lunch today, I was dreaming out loud, explaining to Mike what it was about summer that I was craving so much...

Beach days, where you wake up in the morning, throw on your swimsuit and shorts and have no other plans than to pack a picnic lunch and drive to the beach. Sunglasses, check. sunscreen, check. Towel, journal, reading material, pen, music, checkcheckcheckcheckcheck. The sky is a glorious, clear blue and even in La Jolla it is warm and perfect. Summer is the time of year where everyone gets as naked as possible without getting arrested. Flimsy sundresses, flip flops, short shorts and micro tank tops all reveal bare, tanned or freckled skin basking in the warm caresses of sunshine on shoulders and backs of necks. Hair is pulled up in messy knots, sea breezes help escaping tendrils fall into our faces. Laying out on the beach, baking in the summer heat, relieved only by rushing into the cool Pacific Ocean water for revival. And summer is a perfect time for lovers, flirtations, romance. Who can resist a soft kiss on the shoulder? The neck? Hotstickysweatysweet... At the end of the day, home is waiting. The coolness of the indoors and a refreshing shower help relax the tired, aching, happy muscles and rinse sea salt and sand from the body and hair. Then the after-beach margaritas and the gathering with friends for stories of the perfect wave, the perfect girl, the perfect day.

Sometimes it just doesn't get any better than that.