It is the final summer we have left. It is our last chance to be free. One short summer with worn out flip flops and faded beach towels. One that comes too slowly but ends far too quickly. One last hurrah blowing in the warm humid wind. From this point we can feel it, and everyone is anticipating and longing that first sunny day.

Its meaning is hidden. It creates ultimate bliss in our lives. It gives sticky heat and violent thunderstorms and grabs the hearts of us and ferociously ends unexpectedly. This is how it functions.
Let one assume it will last forever, they will be harshly awakened as if from a perfect dream, the ultimate disappointment enveloping them. Live, live, live, summer says as we go. It fools.
When we are too busy or too tired to keep living, when we are a child in a seemingly never ending paradise, then it is that we grow up. When there are no days left to just live in no worries. One summer that came and went despite what we desired. One that is time and does not forget to keep going. One last summer whose only reason is to move us into reality.