WORDS BY SARA HELM
Summer, somehow, always seems like a long time ago. Even when I'm in the middle of it. Time moves differently, like a dream, punctuated not by the hours spent in the sun (which feel endless), but something else; ice cream cones, campfire smells, bird songs and cricket chirps.
I always spend my summer consumed with the pressure of making the most of every moment. Have I stayed up late enough? Swam in the lake as much as I could have? Did I smell every flower in my path?
No one needs to know how I spent those long aimless days. Maybe when the flakes of dead skin from my unintentional sunburn were shed I discovered I was an entirely different person. Or maybe I was napping. Summers are secrets.
Time moves more practically now. There aren’t any more flowers in my path, and the chances of experiencing a life changing sunburn are rapidly decreasing. Shorter autumn days allow for far fewer opportunities to nap. Summer feels like a faraway dream again, and maybe some of it was. But one of these days I will pull a sweater out of my closet that smells of a long ago campfire and I will know that I did just as much as I needed to.
The images that follow are someone else's summer secrets. A fraction of a larger than life season: evoking all the senses that summer can bring out.