On a day like today - with aromatic blooming trees, the infrequent gusts of wind, and the blinding sunlight kissing my face – all you want to do is have sex with the weather.
That’s the term Rachel and I coined back in our last year of high school. There was a need for us to express our joy and partake in wondrous beauty all around us - only we couldn’t. The closest we could compare the feeling of totality was sex. We wanted to suck, eat, pull, drink the nature all around us (and lets face it actual sex wasn’t far from our thoughts either). The beauty was going surrounding us everywhere and we were hitting that stride – studies we winding down, college acceptance letters had arrived, we had far too many free periods to go down to the local pizza joint or the nearest Starbucks (and get the obligatory free frapucino – since half of the staff were your closest friends), cars were driven with tops down (or at least windows), summer adventures were talked over and over. And there we were owning the town, ready to burst with the anticipation of the new, yet reassured by the old and familiar steps down memory filled streets. For a second it was easy - we were letting our love for one another course through our veins.
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