summer

From The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison:

I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer—its dust and lowering skies. It remains for me a season of storms. The parched days and sticky nights are undistinguished in my mind, but the storms, the violent sudden storms, both frightened and quenched me.

And for me, no matter the time of year, orange soda always tastes like summer. Summer is the scent of hot tar, gasoline, freshly cut grass, cigarettes, and roasting corn (these plus Orange Crush should be a perfume called ‘Allison’ [maybe I’m ‘Aly’ in the summertime]). The storms pass quickly and leave behind deeper smells of earth and flowering trees and overripe mangoes. A bluer sky. Humidity that slows movement to a crawl.

Happy Solstice (this year, on a Full Moon)!