I'm thinking of a beach: salt air, gentle surf, an inquisitive egret strolling through the waves, eyeing the bait bucket as he passes a fisherman on the shore.
I'm remembering the way my body feels in the sun, loose and warm and grateful to be alive.
I'm reliving walks under palm trees, fronds clicking in the breeze and the air heavy and full.
As the season turns, the mind can mutiny, can claim for itself an endless summer.