Honeysuckle, glorious, somewhere, somehow
Maybe if we just meet at the pool at midnight – there will be a place in the sun for all of us again.
Poolside with Slim Aarons
Isn’t summertime just the best?! Especially on the Mediterranean, time stands nearly still. Ombré blue waters sparkle and glisten and practically beg you to dive in. Our days consist of swimming, snorkeling, cliff jumping, making sand angels, and laughing so hard. When I think back, it feels like the days are recorded on one of those old video cameras, where the film reel clicks and still has discolorations from sunbeams, like we’ve somehow managed to live inside a perfect day in 1963.
Sometimes I lay there in the thick summer air, and I wonder how this part of the world manages to be so magical. How does the air smell different, why do I feel so different here? It can’t just be because my nails are painted coral, and my body is tan, and I’m wearing a fragrance called Mediterranean Honeysuckle. (But for real, go smell this.)
No, it’s not just that stuff. It’s slow out here. Nobody is worried about rushing off to an office, or rushing anywhere for that matter. Cars move slowly, locals walk slowly, time crawls by. We’re all just sort of basking in our own little wonderlands, inspired by the idea that right now, in this moment, it seems like the only reason we exist, our only job, is to gather all the sunshine we can for winter storage.
So, in the spirit of my ramblings about summer, here is photographic proof that a seaside summer trumps all other summers: