There’s something about summer that slows everything down just enough to feel alive again. Maybe it's the way the light lingers long past dinner, or the way even the sea seems to shimmer with a secret. Summer is a season of memory and mood—of sun-warmed skin and stories waiting to be told.

I’ve always been a little bit in love with this time of year. The kind of love that feels nostalgic and tender and full of soft, golden light. There's the obvious stuff: beaches and bare feet, books read in the garden, the tang of salt in the air. But there’s also the more intimate, almost invisible romance of it all—the scent of coconut sunscreen on someone you like, the lazy clink of ice in a glass, the sudden ache of a song that takes you back.

I get sentimental about:

🌻 Blanket mornings on the sand, when the world is quiet and the waves are still stretching awake. I like to take a notebook and a flask of tea, just to sit and feel small and grateful.

🍓 First strawberries of the season—sweet, messy, best eaten with fingers in the garden, barefoot, bees buzzing nearby.

🧺 Picnics that last all day, with friends or just a good book, watching shadows shift across the grass, no real plans except to stay exactly where you are.

🎞️ The colours of dusk in July—pale pinks and smoky blues, the way the sky feels like it’s holding its breath.

📻 Old songs on the radio in a too-hot car, windows down, hair whipping, everything feeling like a film scene.

Summer always makes me want to write more, not just because of the beauty—but because it makes me feel so much. That dreamy, golden ache of a perfect moment that you know won’t last. I journal more often this time of year, trying to catch little flickers of the light before they vanish. Trying to remember what it feels like to be soft, open, and here.

What’s the romance of summer for you?

I’d love to know what memories come to the surface when you think about this season. What makes your heart race? What do you find yourself treasuring more this time of year?