Summer has always provided me with an escape from routine, albeit refreshing or agonizing. This change may entail work at home or abroad, a language course, other academic pursuits or a well-deserved vacation. Those fleeting months may equally be filled with anxiety and discomfort due to unemployment or general feelings of emptiness. Although I have experienced exhilarating and meaningful summers as well, to me, this season traditionally signifies restlessness, time to reflect yet reluctance to do so.
For the duration of summer, friends have a tendency to disappear into the professional world or adventures abroad, quite understandably so. I may distance myself from other people as well, seek soothing solitude preferably by traveling. This alienation is representative of summer. In fact, I may find it unsettling to see joyful people in the parks, cheerfully taking in the splendor of the engaging weather. Their care-free demeanor exhibits sweet youth with its dreams and aspirations, perhaps evoking bitter sentiments in me. Foremost, summer compels me to contemplate whether I am happy with my life or not.
Although summer is a passing phase, it equally constitutes a blatant extreme in the form of blossoming nature and at times unbearable heat. In this mental landscape of mine, the vitalizing greenness interweaves with the sun’s embrace. Although I detest the touch of sun on my bare skin, the burning sensation eating my flesh, I long for the rays of light through trees. I am also captivated by the white nights with their aesthetic mysticism, intensifying my imagination. Despite the reassuring comfort of warmth, the abundance of sun may feel overwhelming, blinding or tormenting, each of them occasional concerns of mine. Moreover, the changing of the seasons exhibits powerful continuity, evoking memories from childhood, such as the nearly tangible scent of grass precious to me.
After having spent several summers abroad, I am delighted to stay at home this time. I find serenity in this desicion, suggesting a peace of mind regardless of my rigorous academic goals. I expect a productive phase, enhancing my skills and expanding my knowledge with respect to my thesis. As I have long yearned to devote time to this endeavor, the upcoming months hold captivating moments for me, ideally entailing plenty of diligent reading and writing. Besides engaging in ambitious research, I hope to regain a lost passion for fictional literature, partly destroyed by my demanding studies.
Although each season encompasses enchanting features illustrative of them, summer repeatedly arrives accompanied by the widest range of emotions, all of them fruitful for my own self-understanding. I attempt to see summer as a fleeting phase, glorious or disappointing, still an inevitable episode before fall, the dearest of all seasons.