Chipped paint, the smell of warmth, the delicate sound of the rushing river, my brain takes a trip as I allow myself to reminisce about the small cabin in the mountains.  I lounge on the wooden lawn chair I painted just three years prior, light blue, striped by purple paint covered in tiny sparkles. On the back of the chair it reads “2015” in sloppy handwriting. I feel the hardwood deck’s warmth under my feet,  occasionally injecting splinters as I refuse to keep my feet still. The crisp yet hot air fills my lungs as I take a long, deep breath.
Laughter and shrieks of excitement fill the air as Kale throws Braden into the air,

creating a splashing sound as he hits the green pond. Braden swims over to Kale and treads water in front of his brother, who stands as dignified as superman, the water barely touching his waist. Kale throws him again and laughs loudly, just for the simple reason that Braden is laughing. Braden’s high pitched laugh is a descending piano scale, each note distinct.

The trees dance in the background, the most subtle summer breeze causes the tree tops to
sway dramatically, as if they will separate from their sturdy trunk.  The swinging chair in the gazebo reacts similarly to the trees, so sensitive to the gentle wind. Behind the wooden gazebo, a straight line of trees stand, with just enough space in between to see a forest, my eyes follow the trees then stop to inspect an opening. A long, fallen tree stump creates a bridge across a creek. The small waterfall descends into the pond, creating a playful splashing sound. The water is a marathon runner, sprinting to the finish line, collapsing at the end before it finally, relaxes. The intense, bright sun reflexes off of the water, directly into my eyes, hypnotizing me, I’m lost in a muse before I realize my eyes are stinging.

I lift a peach to my mouth, fresh from Mom’s trip to the farmers’ market this morning. Full of sugary water, flooding my mouth with each bite, I clamp my teeth into the perfect pairing of hard and soft. The juice stains my face as it spills out of my mouth, creating an annoying sticky sensation. I can’t help but take another bite, the crunchy membrane breaks and I bite the side of the peach once more.

I hear the buzzing of the bees, triggering my irrational fears as I suddenly switch
chairs to escape. I stare intensely at the bee, as it pollinates the small bush, I tell the bee to leave with my eyes, my uneasy tension increases like a rubber band, ready to be released. Many memories flood my mind of my family making jokes of my odd phobia. The bee graciously moves to the other side of the bush, my muscles release, my lungs seis restraint, finally continuing the formally paused cycle, my brain relaxes and rejoices.
I feel a bead of sweat forming just below my hairline, I wipe it away swiftly before

it drops into my eye. This soon becomes a chain reaction, my war with the heat intensifies, I attempt use my hands to control the sweat, but they prove to fail and become sweat filled as well. At last, the battle ends as my brothers parade by me, soaking wet, splashing me with water every time they move.

I ask summer to never leave as I watch the pond settle from my brothers’ swimming. The sun begins to depart, creating a myriad of colors across the mountain skyline. A soft pink is painted above the bright orange sun, the pink color fades into a strong orange stripe that fills the sky. The warm air kisses my face, and whispers in my ear, it goes along saying farewell to the grass, the leaves of the tops of the beautiful green trees, untouched by man’s filthy hand.