For me, summer means stone fruits and swallows by the hundreds. Blown-out waves, tourists, fog. Bonfires, reading in the sun, long hours alone. Strawberries, blueberries and, finally, blackberries—the wild ones that grow behind the shops in town and on the sides of the highway. Homegrown tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, soaking up the sun like I’m one of them. Beers on the beach, avoiding being stung by bees. Late, blurry nights. Water. And ice cream.
What does summer mean to you, wherever you are?