A love letter to your late summer days...
The feeling of dry grass under small bare feet and crusted dirt on our faces. Dust on our clothes and the taste of blueberry yogurt and Salmiak licorice in our mouth.
When I think back to the Augusts of my childhood this is the film roll my mind plays for me. Summer in the 00s.
I know myself good enough to know, that I tend to romanticize things, especially when it comes to old blurry memories, like not being able to reach the tap of my grandmothers fitted kitchen. But still I can’t help but think that I must have spend all my summers there. Inside this old kitchen, in my grandmother’s farmhouse on the German countryside.
Riding my bike to the lake, diving deep down into the cold water, finally turning my head upwards, watching hundreds of bubbles escaping with my oxygen, rushing up to the surface, leaving me breathless, with a blurry sight into the blue sky.
This warm, hazy time at the end of summer has always appeared to follow a different concept of time. In its endless evenings, as long as the midsummer ones, already lies the idea of winter. September tends to reach out its fingers into colder days, softly stroking the thought of melancholy.
“We were born and raised in a summer haze”, a line by Adele from her famous song “someone like you” that I always adored, seems to perfectly describe this September feeling.
“You know how the time flies, only yesterday was the time of our lives”.
This summer we were forced to slow down, to look up. It made me return from the breathtaking, swirling midsummer city nightlife that guided my last two years with its blinding lights and vibrant beats, back to the summer feeling of my childhood- a family weekend at my grandmas house. Collecting late summer days memories, hazy golden, but also frozen moments of dust and heat. Me taking pictures of my Grandma, my aunts, my mom, my siblings, my cousins, desperately trying to capture those moments, already knowing, how much happiness lies in these days, in these moments.
I’ve definitely been a summer child, always outside in the fields. That changed. I’ve found peace and comfort in the darkness of winter, and the cozy blankets in my bed on a rainy, stormy day in October.
But even more, the line of Adele seems to describe my life perfectly.
I was born and raised in a summer haze. And that part of me will forever keep me warm in December.