It’s one of those afternoons, you know. The perfect ones, that smell of summer and heat and splashing in pools. And memories. Memories of long afternoons hanging with mates. Of afternoons reading, writing, chatting on phones. Of sleepovers and diners at friends.

Of seeing in the New Year sitting on a hill at the back of your mates place watching illegal fireworks go off in town. Of finishing the school year, sleep-ins and beaches. Of jumping off ropes into rivers. Of happy-snaps with friends, dancing on roads in the rain, painting each other’s nails and gossiping late into the night. Of Christmas texts sent and received. That day you realize you really should write some thank-you notes for Christmas  presents.

Of forgetting what day it is.

The summers of endless sun and the very occasional rainstorm that for some insane reason brings a flood with it. Of staying up late because it’s so humid you can’t sleep.

Days that you only wear pyjamas, or just swimmers. Days you just can’t be bothered to do your hair so you just plait it and leave it alone for a week.

Summer is memories both good and bad. Of seeing the boy you like down town with that mean girl from school. Of calling a mate and screaming about for a couple of minutes. Of helping friends pack to move to another state. Of crying because everything’s gone wrong.

Summer is for horse-riding, for camping in the middle of no-where, for losing phones after accidently leaving them in your pocket when you go swimming. Big games of family cricket out the back. For summer flings.

For losing at least one piece of clothing between camping, beaches and forgetting by it the town pool. For nights out and nights in. For just getting movies out because there is nothing else to do. For forgetting all those boring assignments you had to do at school. Making fun of your old teachers and dreading and hoping for the new ones. Summer is shopping and learning to drive and getting into pointless fights with your siblings.

Summer is just listening, to the sounds of the birds, the cattle and the damn crickets. Summer is youth.

Summer is daydreams, short-shorts, singlets and thongs. (the shoe)

Summer is one thing you can’t change, no matter how hard you try.

Summers you remember as long as you can.

Summer is magic, true and simple. Summer is perfect.

A-N i felt that i needing to express before summer is over. I may add more if i think of some.

I hope you enjoyed it. That it makes you remember and laugh out loud, like me. or sigh and think back on not-so-good days. But over-all just remember, i think everyone needs to think about how much it really means to us all. Memories of summer.

Thankyou.