Week 1 : a tribute to summer.

A day spent outside is never a day wasted. Especially during those sweet three summer months. The air is warmer, the sun is hotter and the days are longer. And, arguably, your spirit is a bit more alive.

Jumping from a bridge into a swimming hole, with your friends cheering you on, is certainly one way to spend a summer day. Another is riding a bike down hills and around corners of cracked pavement, the wind in your hair and the world flashing by you too fast for your eyes to catch it. Sunbathing on a blanket in the grass with a friend, a Cosmopolitan magazine and some sandwiches is another way to spend a summer day. Tubing on a lake, riding on the back of a jet-ski, riding in the bed of a pick-up truck, hiking through the woods... How many ways are there to enjoy the natural beauty that is summer?

Imagine that your bare feet are buried under the warm, luxurious sand. Close your eyes and you can almost feel the warm breeze against your skin. Wearing a pair of denim shorts, the sun against your bare legs. You open your eyes and a lake is spread out around you; as calm as ever, it creates a mirror-like image of the impossibly blue sky.

The faint smell of a campfire and pine trees travels with the wind. The radio sits on top of the over-turned canoe, the country station it was on turned down low enough to hear what song was on. You pick up a rock and throw it into the lake.

With a splash comes a ripple, and the ripple travels quickly on the surface of the water. Amazing, isn't it? How such a small thing can create such a big reaction.

Arms sore from canoeing, you pull yourself up and stretch your arms above your head, reviling in the freedom.

How perfect this entire place is.

Nothing is sweeter and crisper then that first breaking, waking moment of the early morning. This specific morning was decorated in dew and rain drops. The sky remained blue but the rain still fell.

Walking out of the tent, you're first embraced by the smell of a fresh summer rainfall. The air and sand beneath your feet wet, you step out of the thicket and into the clearing that faced the lake.

As if it was a canvas stretched out in front of you, the dark clouds and blue morning sky was home to a rainbow. You could see it's beginning and end, and it reflected off the lake to create two images of the same rainbow.

It was only there a minute or two before it faded. What if you hadn't woken up in time? You would have missed a future story you'd tell. 

An image like that, you can only sit and enjoy it.

As a girl, you sit on a rock in front of the bay and dip your toes in the cold, salty water. The night sky is as dark as ever and the water is an inky-black mass that is laid out in front of you. A huge moon reflects off the wavy water, and the millions of stars in the sky are the moon's faithful companions.

A crisp wind picks up. You hug your legs close to your chest.

I'd like to know just how many of those stars there are...

You think to yourself. You look up at the cloudless sky and can't even fathom beginning to count.

I wonder if you can see these many stars everywhere in the world. 

For some reason, you doubt it.

The waves are melodic tonight. It almost makes you sleepy; almost makes you want to go inside and tell Nana you're ready to bed.

But you want to sit here for a little while longer.

Watching the bay this time of night isn't exactly exciting. The tide is too high to walk about and look for shells. It's too dark to look for boats or seals.

But for some reason, on this August night, watching the waves is better then watching TV.

"I'm afraid!" You cry, jumping down from the edge of the bridge.

"You're scared?!" Your cousin calls up to you, "Seriously? This bridge really is less then 15 feet up."

"I haven't jumped off it since I was a kid though!" I yelled back.

"Then it's even less scary now!" One friend called up to you, "Just avoid jumping too far to the left or the right. You'll hit a bunch of rocks and die."

Everyone laughed except you. You pushed some hair behind your ears and looked down.

It really isn't that far...

"C'mon!" They all seem to say together.

Below the old wooden bridge is a small swimming hole. It branches off into a rocky brook that travels through the thick forest. To your left and your right is a seemingly endless dirt road.

You sigh and get back up on the edge of the bridge.

Your friends whoop and cheer as you prepare yourself for the jump.

I suppose you only live once.

You take a deep breath and jump, screaming your whole way down.