Summer always felt like a promise. Even as a kid, I knew those golden hours meant something — barefoot mornings, watermelon juice on my fingers, the sun kissing my skin until it glowed.

Now, life is busier. But some things haven’t changed. I still crave late sunsets and slow afternoons. I still find peace in the sound of cicadas and the feel of grass between my toes.

Last summer, I spent an evening alone in the backyard, no phone, no plans — just a glass of iced tea and a warm breeze. The sky turned pink, and I remembered what it felt like to be weightless.

We chase so much in life. But maybe the best moments are like summer — quiet, glowing, and gone too fast. That night, I didn’t capture it with a photo. I just let it live in my memory — soft, golden, and mine.