The Magic of Summer

They say it fades- you know that elated feeling you get when you push your goose-down coat and rubber boots to the back of the closet and pull open the long kept away trunk filled with ratty shorts and worn t-shirts. They say the enchantment of luring those fluttering orbs of light into a jar is usually gone by the time you’ve caught your fiftieth firefly. They say that by your 300th oozing roasted marshmallow, the thrill of perfecting that golden brown crisp is gone. They say it’s time to stop singing, take off the tie-dye, wipe the mud off your face, and get a “real job.” But I know that they are wrong. I know this, because I believe in the magic of summer.

I was already ten-years old by the time I first truly experienced the magic. Eight weeks away from my parents seemed like forever at the time, but summer took me under its wing and I never looked back. Summer gave me the opportunity to explore whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to, without the stress of looming deadlines and “hey-if-you-go-outside-you’re-gonna-catch-a-cold”’s. I puddle jumped for miles without shoes. I ate fifteen slices of watermelon in one sitting. I painted my face in blaring red, white, and blue, and kept it that way long after the fourth of July. I hiked trails just to see where they might end up. I wove so many vibrant threads into friendship bracelets that I developed a tan line halfway up my forearm. I did all those things my first real summer, and I’ve done all of them every warm season since. Summer allowed me to be what I truly wanted to be at all times- a kid.

Like all good things however, summer too must come to an end. I am thrust back into a world already paved with roads, void of new scenery in which to dig my own path. I plunge head first into a mound of dreaded school work, nagging parents, and too-close deadlines. So for nine long months between August and June, I await its arrival. I stare out the frost-covered window from behind my barricade of SAT prep books, AP course review guides, and college applications wondering, where has the sun gone? I try my best to flood my brain with images of summer: canoeing on a pristine lake, picking raspberries off of thorny bushes, lying in a sleeping bag underneath the stars. And then I step off my front porch, landing knee-deep in a sludgy combination of salt, dirt, and snow. But just as it starts to feel as though the bitter chill may never thaw, the golden smile of Summer makes its annual comeback. The crickets chirp, the mosquitoes buzz, and the children squeal, signaling its arrival. And that’s part of the magic that is summer; you can always count on it to return.