Summer baby

I'm a fan of summer, you see. I take that because I was born in summer, and the process that I consume my year begins with each arrival of this season.

Do you also feel that each summer is different? Well I do,  and I could even remember what sets one from the other especially those when I was a kid. What I especially love is how long it seems to last. The deadpan laziness of a hot, 2 pm may seem pretty boring for an eight year old, but I enjoyed the lasting thought that during those particular hours, perhaps nobody can  change the world, at least in my neighborhood, for the sheer intensity of the midday heat. The world stops, as they say, and it was comforting especially with a full blast electric fan fanning my small body couched infront of the television, watching the stocky old man of The Urban Peasant frying avocados. The highlight of the day, really, was the warm afternoon showers at 4pm. When my father wasn't at home, I would go out and dance with the thunder and chase the lightning. The feeling of a thousand droplets hitting every inch of my small, naked body was pure innocent delight. (Perhaps now, that would be obscene, don't you think?)

I'm a fan of summer, you see. Not only because I am a summer baby, but also because summer is the only season I can remember in full clarity.

In the photos is the sport of this year's summer.