Summer

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Salt water. Watermelon. Lifeguards. Kayaking. Boat rides. Water skiing. Sailing. Bare feet. Block parties. Plug in fans. Glow on your skin. Swinging. Family reunions. Long days. Fireworks. Slides. Adventures. Water parks. Sandwiches. Clear skies. Learning knots. Snorkeling. Boys. Henna tattoos. Beach cover-ups. Trying new things. Jell-O. Friendship bracelets. Floaties. Thunderstorms. Smoothies. Painted toenails. Sunsets. Star-watching. Tree-houses.
Whether it’s the sun blazing, young girls in sundresses, or going into your closet and picking you favorite pair of open toed shoes, summer obviously is better than the dreary and depressing winter. Days full of no school, no cares, no worries. You can go for a swim whenever you want, take a quick drive to the beach, or tring to finish a popsicle before it melts. There’s nothing you have to do, but there is so much to do.
Fresh berries. Pink lemonade. Tanning. Damp towels hanging over the railing. Carefree living. Campfire stories. Mini golf. Potato chips. Sleepovers. Summer flings. Jumping on trampolines. Fairs. Wildflowers. Swim suits. Wood docks. Color everywhere. Convertibles. Coconut scented lotion. Big breakfasts. Crickets. Canoes. Lawn mowers. Open windows. Sunglasses. Waves. Freckles. Crossing creeks on fallen logs. Cool breezes. Forts. RVs. Flip flops. BBQs. Surfing. Chalk on driveways. Hammocks.

Growing up in tropical locations such as Mexico, Brazil, and Florida, I’m a summer girl. I feel much more comfortable in a tank top and daisy dukes than I do in a winter jacket and long underwear. Having to put on and layer so much clothing is a waste of time when you could just slip on a sundress. The smell of freshly cut grass is what I was raised in. Visiting my grandfather’s farm where the sunflowers grew twice as tall as me. I love it. And why someone wouldn’t love it boggles my mind.
Old movies. Seeing hot air balloons. Palm trees. Skinny dipping. Camping. Sandcastles. Beach hair. Sprinklers. Fishing. Parks. Outdoor concerts. Beach balls. Cliff jumping. Bike rides. Big, floppy hats. Baseball games. Blowing bubbles. Car washes. Good mood. Photo shoots. Water balloons. Sea doo rides. Sleeping bags. Driving boats. Dogs fetching sticks. Cold beer. Corndogs. Sea shells. Fresh air. Relaxing drives in the countryside. Nachos. Bandanas. Shooting stars. Green leaves on the trees. Lemonade stands. Kite flying.
Why would someone ever trade the awesomeness of summer, for the wet, soggy, slushy winter, with its black ice, so slippery and easy to fall on. The dangers of driving portrayed in the news every night when you get home. Think about it. Having to wipe frost off your windshield, or shovel snow off your drive way. Nobody likes doing that.
Bright mornings. Late nights. Birds chirping. Picnics. Hula-hooping. Roof-top parties. Water guns. Noodles. Iced tea. Roller-skating. Seeing six-packs. Daisies. Bonfires. Road trips. No homework. Yard sales. Sunscreen. Tie-dying t-shirts. Eating off paper plates. Stay in you pajamas. Smores. Jumping rope. Warm rain. Reading romance novels. Lady bugs. Bringing out the kid in you. Cowboy hats. Rainbows. Tubing. Moonlight. Light cardigans. Smiles everywhere. Rope swings. Hamburgers. Summer Olympics. Fireflies.
So really, I want you to think about it. Why would you pick the cold and depressing winter over the fun and exciting summer? Because I can’t think of any reasons.





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