Things I Love

The smell of fresh rain on the hot pavement, because even when the smell reaches me through a crooked window at work, my dreams and ambitions are suddenly great again, because I am a child and everything that is not now seems big but achievable.

The scent of citronella candles.

Sunglasses, pushed out of my face, into my messy hair, getting tangled and only letting themselves be freed through the sacrifice of several strands of dry locks.

The tackiness of sunscreen on my skin, especially between my fingers, on those little flaps of skin which make me look like a fish if only I look closely enough.

Peppermint syrup, the bright green kind. Both when it is too sweet and when it is too thinned out because having to figure out the right syrup to water ratio means summer is only about to begin.

Burning the soles of my feet because walking barefoot seemed more necessary even though it means losing little bits of myself (my skin).

Anti Brumm (or whatever your local variation of bug-repellent is called).

A sandwich made of cheap, sweet, soft, white bread, some butter and spicy salami and the one secret ingredient that elevates it to unheard-of culinary heights: grains of sand. Because I am sitting on the beach while eating it.

Riding home late at night on my bicycle, feeling the wind on my naked skin and knowing I am going fast enough for this to feel cold and yet it doesn’t because it's summer.

Living life outside, even the moments that would be more agreeable inside (staring into a laptop screen, kneading dough), because it is finally possible again.

Salt drying on my skin, creating a different kind of tackiness than the sunscreen ever could.

Riding my bicycle home from the beach, dress wet around the ass because the swimsuit I was so sure I had dried out by lying in the sun those past 30 minutes is still wet and little droplets rain down my thighs.

Sitting outside until the snails show up, the grass is wet and our voices are subdued because we don’t want to disturb the sleeping neighbors or the stars up above.

A slight headache, a dry mouth, a squished half-a-face, an arm that has fallen asleep: Waking up from a long nap on my beach towel, the shade having moved away from my body and the sun having roasted me but my day on the water had made me so tired I slept through it all.

Walking out of my house with only a shirt and shorts -- not having to brace for the weather makes me feel at home in the world.

Licking my lips absentmindedly and the salt on it reminding me that I am on the beach.

Walking inside, losing my balance for a second because my eyes are now used to the brightness of the summer day and do not know how to handle the darkness that is a light-flooded apartment.

Beer and sprite. The first sip, but also the last. Because the last sip tastes like a fresh first sip coming right up.

The beautiful mess that is sunscreen sealing in grains of sand on skin that is still damp with salt water.

Maybe the things I love are summer.