i always have to wait until july. then i can really let myself believe it is summertime. i love all the messiness and heat and icy indulgences of summer. i love that laziness is allowed; the sloth that results from days of intense heat, your only activity angling for a spot directly in front of the fan or a/c, preferably with proximity to cold beverages. i love that it is perfectly okay to have ice cream for dinner if you just can't imagine eating anything that doesn't live in the freezer. i love beaches. thunderstorms. late light. summer reading. bare feet. sigh.
i should mention that it is a breezy, cloudy 73 degrees here right now (with, i might add, a predicted afternoon heat index of 105 degrees). so i am probably not to be trusted while waxing poetic on the drippingly humid, hot days that surely await, and which, in the moment, i will surely not appreciate in quite the same way.
but who cares? it's SUMMER. and so, let us indulge in some seasonal photographs culled from the new yorker's photobooth.
have a lovely friday, y'all.
images: 1+2, 3+4+5, 6, 7+8