Eté

Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is hardly a waste of time.  ~John Lubbock

I feel so enraptured with summertime this afternoon.

Sitting here on the couch, my short legs tucked up underneath me...

...shoulders and feet bare to the caress of the wind...

...sunlight streaming in through the partially-opened screen door...

...two very energetic dogs playing beside me...

...sipping at the tart sweetness of a pomegranate IZZE soda and nibbling at the corner of a dark-chocolate-raspberry swirled square of decadence...

...I feel lost in the wonder that is summer.

There are sweet and beautiful memories that I have already made with people that mean the world to me, and those that I will continue to make in the coming months.

There are pictures to be taken, green tea to be sipped, and shady trees to be climbed.

There are new novels in which I must lose myself, and an end-of-an-era premieres at which I must weep until my eyes ache.

There are fresh strawberries to be bitten and savoured, and the aroma of flowers to inhale.

There is so much sweetness to take in before the silvery winter with its peppermint snow comes again.

Summer is barely half over, and there are still one hundred and one dreams to be chased.

Estate.

夏

Verano.

Eté.

Summer.

I question not if thrushes sing,

If roses load the air;

Beyond my heart I need not reach

When all is summer there.

~John Vance Cheney