Its Indian summer. 80 degrees with a wild wind. The air whirling hair around your face while you drive with the windows down mixed with the smell of sunscreen is intoxicating and it feels like there is nothing but possibility. Wild. Restless. The confines of office walls feel so much like a punishment. Its as if everything was just rewound to those early days of July where the summer and all its cool nights and mysteries lay before you, and you’ve only begun to unearth what splendor awaits you in the beauty of late July and August.
sandy legs and toes
patios and beers
laughing so hard
taking everything less seriously