Reflections of Summer
I love the rugged snowcapped mountains of the Andes. They’re larger-than-life, ancient and solid. But I grew up in the ocean and salt water still courses through my veins.
Nothing feels more like home than the smell and weight of the sea air. It hushes the relentless cacophony that clangs in the corners of my mind and anchors me to a peaceful equilibrium. The warm evening winds and soft sands of the Jersey Shore cradle me in the unconditional love of home.
Summer is my favorite season, even more so when I am coming straight from a southern winter. Our homecoming was filled with happy reunions and warm sunshine, pastel sunsets and lingering beach days.
There were boardwalk strolls, seafood feasts, moonlit bike rides and singing cicadas. I savored the uncomplicated joys of slurping watermelon and ocean swims, flickering fireflies and freshly baked clams. I love the smell of sea-weathered docks and suntan lotion, the feeling of sun-kissed shoulders and balmy nights, the delight of chasing a wet dog with sandy feet.
Every time I travel home from abroad, I see it with fresh eyes, and I’m certain that this tiny stretch of eastern seashore is as beautiful as anywhere in the world. I am grateful to call it mine.