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“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”― Henry James
Glorious, amorous, flaming June, wrap your arms around us, let us laze in your warmth. In like a lioness came our darling June this year; hot summer afternoons bought back the sting of scraped knees and sweetness of ice lollies, the thrill of the fall and begrudging bravery of the comeback, for how can one feel old in Summer? The lazy heat, steaming the ground and quieting the birds, slows the world and reminds us of slower times, when summer holiday stretched endlessly ahead. The crickets deafened, laughter rang late into the night. First love, first freedom, first tastes of life. The sound of a cork pops languidly in summer, asking us to recall ease, look back and remember the forgotten skill of our youth: exist. Now. Only now.
