The rhythmic pitter-patter on the roof echoes throughout the house as my mother yells, “Hurry! We’re going to miss it!” My bare feet scramble as the anticipation prompts a broad smile across my face. When I reach the backyard, I see that my mom is right: I wouldn’t want to miss this—a perfect summer rain. We open the sliding door and step out, and the rainfall welcomes us with open arms. I can smell it—the rain—and that unmistakable, blissful aroma of wet grass.
For as long as I can remember, it’s been a tradition to revel in those warm weather showers with their reinvigorating powers, along with my mother and anyone else willing to accept the invite to become drenched. We jump, we run, we twirl, and we laugh. It’s one of my favorite memories.
In adulthood, for many of us, summer may mean the same routine on rotation—work, home, weekend, repeat. But for a long time, summer meant biking in the sunshine on never-ending, imagination-filled afternoons, playing games with friends, and slumber parties. These are the simple pleasures that make the season’s three precious months all the more special.
It’s no wonder that the most iconic artists were so inspired by summertime. And they inspire me, too. Claude Monet’s “The Artist’s Garden at Vetheuil” or Gustav Klimt’s “Apple Tree” are windows into idyllic, unclouded days. But in reality, whether it’s driving with the windows down, finding a lonesome swing in a park, or enjoying the breeze filtering through the swaying trees, these understated vignettes tell the true story of what summer is all about—leisurely walks, melting ice cream dripping over soggy cones, children laughing, crisp watermelons, catching fireflies, picking flowers, and accepting the gift of longer days and a gentle descent into serene nightfalls.
A couple of summers ago, one August, my friend and I road-tripped from Lynchburg to Cape Cod. The beach house that Jewels and I rented welcomed us with lilac sunsets, sea breezes, and fragrant shrubs that dotted the landscape. Our week there was magical, brimming with delightful restaurants, charming boutiques, and impeccable tan lines. The sights were breathtaking; we watched flotillas of ducks glide across glassy waters, and, one afternoon, we discovered tiny minnows stranded in shallow pools during low tide, patiently awaiting the water’s return.
But the best parts of the trip were laughing until my belly hurt with Jewels at midnight, feeling the sunburn on my cheeks lightly warm my face, and reading Jane Eyre while lying on a quiet beach—the splashing waves, calling seagulls, and hot sun contrasting with Charlotte Brontë’s lyrical prose, describing harsh English winters.
The joys of summer lie in wonderful firsts: the first time you notice the sun lingering longer and longer; the first fireflies who say hello; the first slice into a pool’s surface after a refreshing dive; the first bonfire that lingers with that heavenly smoky scent; and the many more moments we try to hold onto when winter’s turn comes.
Long gone are the days I gathered my glittery pens and colorful paper to make the ultimate summer bucket list for the best break from school. But even now, that whimsical, childish excitement still fills me, even if my must-do list items are no longer “epic sleepover, staying up until 8 a.m.” and “learn how to do makeup,” written in big, crooked letters. My bucket list today is one simple mission: Enjoy the most of what summer has to offer me and my loved ones—meaningful time together, fruitful memories, and many more rain-soaked twirls on the grass.
This article originally appeared in the August 2025 issue.
