Here in Ireland,
we make a lot of jokes about our summer, or the lack thereof. There are
countless internet memes about how changeable and annoying our weather can be (“Ah
summer, my favourite week of the year!”). But when it happens, it truly is the
most glorious time of the year.
Summer is,
without a single doubt, my favourite time of the year. There is nothing I love
more than finally feeling those first few warm rays against my skin, noticing
the daylight hours getting longer and longer with each passing day, and
triumphantly throwing my thick winter jumpers in the back of my wardrobe. At last.
I love the
feel of the heat against my skin, whether it’s a soft, warm breeze or full-on
blistering heat. I love those cool breezes that trickle gently through the
trees, tug at stray strands of my hair and weave in and out between my bare
toes.
I love
that I seldom see true darkness (except for when I'm out all night, obviously!). What I mean is, I’m the kind of person who can be greatly
affected by the weather, and the constant darkness and misery of the winter
months is a terrible dampener on my mood. But in the summer, on those nights when I crawl into
bed after eleven p.m., I love that the sun is still ever-so-slightly up, painting my
bedroom in a soft, navy glow. And when I rise in the morning (or early
afternoon, ahem), it’s always there to greet me.
I love
dressing for the summer – I love donning a loose fitting crop top and a pair of
high waisted shorts, slipping my feet ever-so-quickly into a pair of sandals
and there – done. There’s no faffing about with layers and matching different
items and worrying about being too hot or too cold, or possibly getting wet
from those temperamental and random rain showers.
As silly as it sounds, I love how
cool sunglasses look, even if I keep them pushed up on my head to keep my hair
from falling in my eyes. I love wearing floaty, bohemian-esque clothes that you
normally wouldn’t get away with at any other time of year – printed kimonos and
lace everything. When the sun’s out, the world becomes your music festival.
I love
loading up my iPod with dozens of happy, chilled out songs – everything from
bubbly, shiny pop to loud guitars and epic, singalong choruses. Summer is the
one time you can truly embrace blaring Island
In The Sun from some crappy speakers, and it will always sound amazing. It’s a time for Two
Door Cinema Club and The 1975, a time for soppy rock love songs, for three
minute gusts of pop punk, and a mixture of mellow indie beats.
I love the
late evening sunsets the most – the way that, despite having almost identical
weather every day, they always seem to be different. I love seeing the sky
gradually light up with a multitude of beautiful colours – soft pinks, sharp
corals, so many different blues and greys reflecting off the once-white fluffy
clouds. I love that they seem to go on forever, narrowing with each passing
minute until the sun is but a glowing orange blip on the horizon.
So – shall
I compare thee to a summer’s day? No, because there truly is no comparison.
