Like most kids, I grew up impatiently counting down the days until summer. With a wide-open calendar in front of me, I could dedicate my days to reading for hours, biking until the sun went down, and taking spontaneous swims whenever I craved a cool-off.
But as an adult, my anticipation for the June-through-August freedom of summer has shifted to anxieties about the unbearable heat.I think summer is somehow both the easiest and the most difficult time of year to romanticize your life.
With flowers in bloom, picnic season in full swing, and nap dresses taking the place of cozier layers, everything can feel straight out of a Jane Austen novel (add in a wedding or two to seal the deal).
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