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After a long winter, windows are opened. Everywhere I look, there is colour. Green leaves unfurl, flower buds unfold in brilliant hues of pink and orange, yellow and purple and red. Sprinklers spurt, bees buzz, mowers mow, children squeal, bicycle bells ring, motorcycles cycle and car radios blast.

The soundtrack of summer. Love it.

There are songs that mean more than the lyrics, that move you to more than the tapping of feet. And, it seems to me, there is always a day in May when it hits me, summer is here again.

No itchy sweaters, no layers, no flannel, no blankies. No hiding indoors because outside is the place to be.

Frisbee and charcoal barbecues, gooey roasted marshmallows on sticks, licked by the flames of a bonfire, wading pools, and children’s hair, thick with the scent of sunshine and sweat. The tickle of cool grass between my toes. Sunscreen and bug spray.

And Van Morrison, Brown-Eyed Girl. Lola. Kung-Fu Fighting. Your Momma Don’t Dance. Don’t Fear the Reaper. Sweet Home Alabama. Some Kind of Wonderful. Fox on the Run.

And this one, Sunny Days, by Lighthouse.

What’s your sunny day memory? What does summer mean to you?

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