june

It is yellow–yes, bright yellow, because that’s my favorite color—and I would be driving it, of course, because I know where I am going. The top is down on the sunniest of days, and I am wearing a dress, a scarf, sunglasses, and the basket and the bag and the towels wait patiently in the back seat. These things take time, after all.

I take the long route. It drives you crazy, I know, but it is all worth it, this journey. I love to watch the scenery, to feel the wind and the sun and your hand absentmindedly grazing my shoulder, finding a curl that escaped protection, now twirled gently around your fingers, now pulled, a little less gently. We will be there soon.

Summer will come, I am convinced, despite these cool evenings and rainy days. Summer will come, and we’ll find a place to park. We’ll open the doors and run, run, through rocks and sand and water and sun and laughter and the calm that waves bring us. We’ll find it: we’ll find June.