Summer is the smell of air-conditioning.
Summer is arguments over which ice blocks to buy at the supermarket. We can never agree.
Summer is sitting around the table at Granddad's house for Christmas lunch, the room stifling with bodies and a roast lunch. It is pulling crackers, telling awful jokes, wearing daggy hats. It is Dad's before and after photos of his meal.
Summer is deciding on new music to listen to. It is out with the old, and in with the new. It is the intimidating grey colour of a blank itunes library. It is a blank canvas.
Summer is the slick, greasy feel of sunscreen on my tortured red-headed skin. It is the feel of chlorine in my hair; the inability to pull a brush through it the next day.
Summer is dreading bikini shopping and avoiding the crowded beaches.
It is spending more than five weeks straight with my little brother.
Summer is taking so many photos of absolutely nothing, and then realising there was sunscreen on the camera lens. It is looking through blurred photos months later and reminiscing.
Summer is sweat dripping down my neck, forming little tributaries and channels and winding its way slowly down my back.
Summer is compiling a reading list that I know I will never get through.
Summer is the energy of a huge thunderstorm after a few 40 degree days in a row. The world feels new and refreshed afterwards.
Summer is complaining about how much I hate hot weather and wishing it to be winter again. Even though deep down I am secretly loving it.
Summer is slapping other people's sunburn, and embracing my immature sense of humour.
Summer is other people slapping my sunburn. Payback.
Summer is lying back on my bed in the dark, with the fan on, listening to my LoTR soundtrack (Return of the King - for anyone who was wondering).
Summer is absolute exhaustion. It is feeling like throwing up from the heat.
Summer is a family lunch outdoors.
Summer is nostalgia.
Summer is watching Christmas Vacation for the millionth time. It is the excitement of putting up the Christmas tree, and the smell of Mr. Sheen.
Summer is the taste of cordial.
Summer is...freedom, fun, excitement, tradition and just a hint of memory, all rolled into one.
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