when you finally lose track of the days, you know it’s summer because…

you lean in a little closer…

you start making pies with things you actually grew, food never tasted so good…

you can’t believe you finally beat that level…

you wonder why you didn’t cut the wild flowers sooner, they are pure delight…

you remember you bought those paints forever ago, and do watercolors with neighborhood kids…

you decide every meal should be breakfast.

how do you know it’s summer over there?