Green Grass and the Smell of Summer

God it kills me to think of the summertime when I'm stuck in the dead of winter.

I remember so vividly everything about the warm weather.

The smell of grass, at Bliss both kinds of grass.

The feeling of a warm breeze blowing lightly across your shoulders.

The car windows rolled down with Jason Mraz playing.

The sound of folk music at a festival.

The feeling of lying in the grass and looking up a blue sky.

The lazy feeling of waking up at noon to the sound of a lawnmower.

The drive up to blissfest with a mandatory morning stop for chocolate milk.

The prickly wheat on the field in the back forty.

Tie dye flags blowing in the dusty breeze.

The late night constant rythym of the Drum Kiva.

Barefeet in green grass.

Sneaking out to go for walks to various playgrounds.

Breathe Owl Breathe.

Being carefree.

Popsicles.

Shorts and tank tops.

Tanned skin.

Sunglasses, so many many sunglasses.

Arizona tea and Snapple, wherever we could find it.

Lengthy road trips. Mini road trips. Idealistic road trips.