Summer is the annual permission slip to be lazy. To do nothing and have it count for something. To lie in the grass and count the stars. To sit on a branch and study the clouds.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I am a summer person.
Aaah, summer - that long anticipated stretch of lazy, lingering days, free of responsibility and rife with possibility. It's a time to hunt for insects, master handstands, practice swimming strokes, conquer trees, explore nooks and crannies, and make new friends.
Summer is the time when one sheds one's tensions with one's clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all's right with the world.
Summer is a promissory note signed in June, its long days spent and gone before you know it, and due to be repaid next January.
I love summertime more than anything else in the world. That is the only thing that gets me through the winter, knowing that summer is going to be there.
Supposedly, summer vacation happens because that's when the kids are home from school, although having the kids home from school is no vacation. And supposedly the kids are home from school because of some vestigial throwback to our agricultural past.
Summer nearly does me in every year. It's too hot and the light is unforgiving and the days go on way too long.
I hate the summer.
Write about winter in the summer.
Summer means happy times and good sunshine. It means going to the beach, going to Disneyland, having fun.