As each day crosses off in our calenders, we fight to salvage the last scraps of sunshine before winter slowly creeps in, awaiting summer's demise and moving into our breathless lungs. The Dog Days are soon over and the mason jars once brimming with sweet iced tea at summer soirees merely sit upon shelves, suffocated by the scalding cold. The golden childhood days soon abate, the days that were measured in gallons of lake water pouring from our skin and how many elephants we could count in the evening clouds.
The warmth crashes into a state of darkness, like a smashed window spilling spots of sunshine onto our bedroom floors. We wash away the sea salt from our flaxen hair, the sun cream nestled in the crooks of our ears, and trace the smattering of freckles adorning our skin which remain a permanent reminder of what has been and who we really are.We lick the essence of Prosciutto and mozzarella from our lips, squirming at the last taste of pesto aioli and Sauvignon Blanc and finally lay under those last scraps of sun listening to a sighing sea.
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