As I sit here in a north side library scraping the bottom of the barrel that is my mind, trying to somehow encapsulate summer in just the one blog post, I come to a conclusion. It’s only been, what, a week now, and yet I've decided there’s no better way of going about conveying what summer means, to me at least, than drawing on my own experiences-so-far to do so
So, summer, qu-est ce que c’est?
It’s fall-outs and seeing new sides to old friends, being brought yet closer by newly discovered mutual interests and the likes
It’s adopting a new image, a summer season look if you will, an attempt to invite summer to bring with it some change in your life, a new you ready to take on the world with new awoken eyes, armed with a splattering of H2O2 (aka hydrogen peroxide)
It’s getting noticed, capturing a stranger’s gaze, even reducing some poor random lad to a blushing, giggling state with the use of a mere smile
It’s recounting an incident involving a run-in with a hand-dryer entirely in Irish, “scrúdú téip” format, and not feeling the need to return to the use of English as a medium of converstation afterwards, resulting in many incredulous looks
It’s holding a pose for a sketch for minutes on end, fighting the urge to even take in a satisfactory breath for fear of ruining the potential masterpiece in the making, only to have the artist in question give up on the piece in the process, deeming it hopeless, and disposing of it
Summer, it’s all about taking on they city you’ve known and loved pretty much all your life through the eyes of a tourist, seeing it in a new light, rediscovering its hidden secrets
In this way, it’s about contemplating, whilst on the banks of our own “Lovely Lee” just how sanitary the river’s water is before going bohemian/hedonist, saying “ah sure fuck it” and wading into it’s murky, filthy depths for a quick paddle
It’s about mingling with the local kids at the Fitz’s park playground, before every parent there makes it known our seemingly paedophilic ways aren’t appreciated in the vicinity, with unwelcoming glances
It’s well and truly re-discovering how the “shaky bridge” earned its name, discovering for oneself the finest local music talent the city has to offer under a hot, baking sun, and re-discovering a knack for making a mean banana bread loaf
Summer, it’s having a mouldy, carefree laugh in a crowd of sober persons, further accentuated by the disapproving eye of the public
It’s whipping out some killer dance moves in said crowd, dancing like no one’s looking, when in actual fact, you’re the central focus of a number of video recorders, being filmed by those present in their middle ages
It’s only realising the above the following day
Summer, it’s all about making a point to have something to show for each individual day. It’s making an attempt to “vivre pleinement” each and every day, to remember what it is to live without the toils of formal education slaying any ambitions to take each day as it comes, in demanding weekly structure in ones life. It’s making the most of the cards you’ve been given for the three months so that, when looking back, it wont be with regret for wasted opportunities.
But most importantly, summer, it’s here.