Summer was the time for favorite memories: It was the colorful pictures of my family, the sticky cherry flavored popsicles that melted in the sun, or the cool blue water slapping against my ankles; summer was the peppy music blasting in the car, the smell of cotton candy at the theme park, or the fresh lemonade with the satisfying “clink” of ice cubes tapping against the glass cup. No other season could truly replace the exhilaration that rushed through me when summer would arrive every year. They were the golden glory days when I would be able to feel the warm sun kiss my cheeks and finally obtain freedom. Yet summer was also more than the weather or food, but it was the large recollection and memoir of past experiences with loved ones. It was the lollipop that I strived to get and savor each and every sweet, heavenly lick.

As a child, I loved the bright ball of yellow that woke up every morning and released rays of orange and gold through the window because it had always seemed magical to me. The sun stood as a symbol of warmth and light, which was why I cherished the particular season so much. It was when the sun glittered against the sapphire sky during the day and glowed down on my ice Coca-Cola that I was holding in my hand and a hot dog in the other. It was when I went down to the beach and gazed curiously at the pecking seagulls that strutted across the shore. The ocean was breathtaking and sound of waves slapping against the sand had always put me to a pleasant slumber. However, summer was more than beaches and sun, it was the almost-perfect small moments throughout the day that made me oblivious to the rest of the world. They were rare drops of the sweet and brief points like when I sat down on swing outside with my book on that rested on my lap on a cool summer afternoon. It was only me and book.

In contrast to winter, summer was the season when I traveled and ventured past my comfort line. It was the time when I took on a new journey, whether it be a road trip through the Arizona desert, or exploring the classic streets of Paris. Summer always brought a new destination and a new adventure for me to face. It was a map; it introduced new areas of the world every year and shared its knowledge with me when it had the chance, along with music, and even style. Summer was vivid and lively, no one had a brighter smile than it did. It wore colors from every palette and it divided every tint, hue, and shade with me and others around the world like a virus no one wanted to forfeit. Summer was when new music was introduced as well , that freed the soul from the burdens that arrived previously. It lightened the mood with the perky beat and the sing-a-long melody that blasted in the car when I drove across town. Summer always lead to the ecstatic and boisterous atmosphere that packed our planet from the core to the atmosphere.

Summer was never complete without family or friends, however. The season was not truly summer unless it had the two essential requirements needed for a flawless three months. Whether it was sipping on refreshing lemonade, driving downtown, or wearing the most colorful outfit, there was never the pure feeling of joy  if done alone. Summer pushed all families and friends to finally have “bonding-time”, a time when everyone conversed friendly and united after being liberated from work, school, and stress. That was summer’s raw goal; it reconnected the scattered group and renewed the fading friendship or tattered connection between families. Summer was the diamond in the coal; it did brilliant things to people, including myself, that swiveled their perspective and character. Summer was the golden key to change, rebirth, and salvation.