A screen door breaks down the barrier between outside and in. It lets the air move freely between the two worlds.
Out go the dim lights, hot soups and thick socks of winter. In come the bright sun, cool salads and bare feet of summer.
This is not our screen door; it's the screen door of my brother- and sister-in-law in Portland. We haven't used our screen door since we got an energetic dog. Copper also sees a screen as a way to break down the barrier between outside and in — but in a more direct and less metaphorical way.
So I keep the back door open (no screen at all) and remember a time when the slap of the screen door closing meant summer and all of its freedoms.