Letters to July// Day 8 (Sydney Warburton)
Dear July,
There’s something about you I can never seem to put my finger on, you bring with you a sense of fulfilling freedom that sounds louder than a gong, sounding through our hearts going on, and on. Oh my dear July, what can I say? The fire in our hearts to live, really live, seems to burn brighter during your days. The happiness you bring us is inescapable. Despite your rays of thick sunshine and heat that makes my legs stick to my seat, I am thankful for you for it is only during this part of the season my heart sounds to a different beat. Dearest July, these days are my favorite. Days at the amusement park, rollercoasters and cotton candy pink on my lips, until the wee hours of night when it is dark. Days at the lake with the heat beating down on me and the thrill of jumping off the dock as the water cools my skin. Days driving through the mountains, with rushes of hair blowing at my face and hair, as blurs of green, green as the Pine that covers the Alps whiz past me stirring up whirlwinds of wonder, it soothes my soul. Days at the beach, the ocean a cold rush over my feet. Whether it’s thick rays of sunshine and hot sand or blurs of green and chilly mountain air, my dearest July, I love you anywhere.
Love,
Sydney
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