Fall is absolutely my favorite season. Winter is cold (horrible) but at least has the upside of cocoa and my birthday. Spring is warm and lovely and green.
But there's something about the way summer smells that is magical. Like when your skin smells of sunscreen and outside and maybe a tiny bit of sweat so it feels like you absorbed the sunshine and get to emit back to the world a little bit. Like when the bathroom smells of chlorine or salt as bathing suits and towels hang to dry, summoning the refreshing feel of water on your skin on a hot day. Like when you can tell someone is grilling hot dogs and hamburgers, taking advantage of hours of daylight in the long evenings.
Summer comes with the sort of smells that just make you feel alive and hungry, ready to get outside and gobble up all the delicious daylight you can before the Earth tilts away from the sun. As though days that seem to last forever mean the good times will, too, and any troubles will pass like a Carolina thunderstorm, here one minute but gone to reveal clear skies the next.
Because summer is the time when youth runs free, no school or job to worry about, capturing those smells to save up for winters and the years when free time is harder to come by. And then, in a break from the everyday humdrum work week, you catch a whiff of sunscreen and chlorine and feel unburdened for a moment, and life is good again.
For real, though, I'm ready for fall. Two months of summer is enough for me.