I am alive. Again.

Because it’s summer, and summer’s when everything comes alive, most importantly my spirit. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking all of the year, and Spring begins to awaken me, every tiny nerve in me that tingles with restless energy — happy, restless energy. And it awakens within me this will to be happy, to go and embrace the world — the same world that’s been a pain the rest of the year.

I hate the seasonal cusp between summer and winter, when the days become shorter, and darkness descends on sunshine. But I love, in capital letters LOVE, when the season reverses, and the days become longer, and I can step out at 6, even 6.30 in the evening, to be met by the gently setting sun, still a warm orange at that hour. It calms me down at the end of a hectic day, tells me to slow down, because I still have ahead of me a long evening to unwind.

I love how green summer is. No, not a pallid, faint excuse of a green, but a bright, sharp green, that’s calling out to you. I wait for the yellow blossoms to bloom, when the red Gulmohurs fire up the leafless trees. I love how blue the sky is — the colour you get in pictures after they’ve gone through serious photoshopping.

I love how we no longer need to rush to shut out the icy cold winds that slyly find way through the smallest crack, and that we can now finally open our doors and windows to sunshine and summer breezes.

Next time, I want a summer baby. Imagine, the double joy of a baby and this season! Oh, and I must add, if there is a second time, that is.

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