We are well into my favorite month, my favorite season. Summer is here, all rainy and sweaty and perfect. Summer smells like freedom to me - the days are warm and long and we are unconstricted by piles of clothing, the threat of frostbite or wolves in the long, bleak night. I walk through a rainstorm and fling my arms out to gather the energy and the radiance of each drop.
I live for summer. I wish I lived in Summer-All-The-Time Land.
The lazy Independence holiday weekend is the best of times and we are smack in the middle of it. Yesterday we strolled the park, met friends for coffee and laughs, trekked to Queens for a backyard celebration and relaxed through a sweltering evening with good company and margaritas.
It was a day of sticking our toes into a wading pool, massaging an almost-naked baby with ice cubes, licking trifle from a spoon and slipping chips to an under-table puppy.
That is what a July day looks like.
If I could freeze time and cling to a moment, this would be a good one.