Every season has a certain smell. You know? That aroma that blows through the city signalling to the savviest of observers that a new season has arrived.
There’s an electricity about it that drives me wild. Summer’s scent is warm and spicy like a wild fire. That might just be from the sun burning the dehydrated plants that surround me.
It’s a magical time where anything can happen. It’s hope. It’s proof that the world can’t always be frozen and desolate. It’s also a remainder to enjoy it for now because sooner than one can wish it, the all too familiar smell of fall will be wafting around us.