I'm in love with summer thunderstorms. They fill me with energy, and I'll shout out loud. I love standing on the deck in the rain. I love the powerful roll of thunder, or the dance of lightening. I've been guilty of lying on my tin roof and watching the sky light up around me.
I've realized I don't very often write about what's actually happening in my life. At least not often and not directly. July has been brilliant to me. I've camped like a gypsy in a field of wildflowers with people I love. I've managed to get in every trip despite having a real job.
I spent a week at a music festival. I saw bands I've listened to for well over a decade. I acted a little bit fifteen. I turned twenty-four. Oh, did I forget to mention that? This age jump seems more significant the the ones surrounding it. I've dealt by ignoring it. But I think I'm actually pretty at peace with it. Other then the fact that I'm no closer to being set in life then I was five years ago.
July is never long enough. I haven't hung out at the river, and I haven't dived into the lake nearly enough. I haven't harvested a single cherry.
And now I sit and type towards the end of a summer storm. The sun is coming out again. It's the end of the July where I turned 24. It means more to me then New Years. More reflection, more need for direction.