I remember summer as a kid. It was a moment of pause, a moment of rest, when I could enjoy time and books, without fear of getting old.
Now I’m old, or older, depending how you see things like these, and I feel like summer is the moment for new start.
What else can it be? Life is growing out of each and every stone. People seem to be rushing somewhere. You find the day long enough for you to do stuff. So what else is there but time?
Where else can I get my sense of time and my independence?