Feelings of Summer

Hey,

What is the first thing that pops into your mind about summer?

For me, it`s time off of school (thank Jesus!). For others in different walks of life, it could be an escape, being stuck in a poorly air-conditioned office while people have fun at the beach, when kids stay home and ruin the house, or a never-ending 2-3 month European vacation (I wish).

Summer has always held some sort of beautiful magic over people, myself included. My most prominent memories of summer were before high school, when, for 7 straight summers in a row, I would go to theatre camp.

At first, it sounds dorky. I mean, theatre camp? Seriously? But alas, it was not. Think of this if you will:

Incredibly Record-Breaking Heat Wave ALL Summer = The Candy Heiress Inside An Air-Conditioned Theatre With Comfy Seats

It makes sense when you think about it.

Through all those summers, I`ve made friends that I still talk to, even now. The set painting, the practicing, the choreography, the scary stories in the "haunted" theatre, the rush of the final performance...it was great. That`s how I see my summers when I close my eyes.

Of course, there are other memories that I use to define summer as well.

Going to the amusement park with my friends or my aunt was always a big thing for me. I went every summer, and it was fantasic. To this day, I still haven`t been on an up-side-down roller coaster, but hey, I`d rather not throw up, if that`s okay with you guys.

Sleepovers, camp-outs, and bonfires in my backyard (and at various camping grounds) were all included in the summer mosiac. As for smells, (sorry for the cliche) I remember fresh cut grass, salty ocean foam, campfires, sweat, meat on the barbeque, and popsicles dripping onto the hot pavement.

Basically, it boils down to this: do these events, friends, and sensations really make up a summer? Do those little thoughts and memories you laugh about when you can`t sleep at night, years later, define you?

To me, the answer is yes.


Hugs and Hershey Kisses,

The Candy Heiress