Beauty in the birches: Summer lovin'

I've often said I would live in a place with no winter whatsoever. My ideal environment is one where the temperature hovers around 30 degrees celcius, a light breeze rustles the leaves, and the sun warms our faces as we sit in a park and sip red wine. Then we will go home to our lava lamps and burn our hemp-scented candles while Bon Iver sings smoothly from the speakers.

While most complain about the heat, you will NEVER hear me do so. Summer's here. It's finally here. In full bloom. Best time of the year.

From October until about May or June, I am cold. July and August are the best months of the year for many reasons - a big one being these are the two months when I am finally warm. Even as I type this, I'm fighting the urge to turn around and close the window behind me (the breeze is a little nippy, ok?)

Everything's better in Summer.

Clothes are brighter. Everything is brighter. Trees, flowers, grass, the sky - it's all alive and thriving.

Dinner parties are great in the summer. What other time of year can you be praised for serving grilled hot dogs, potato chips and lemonade?

Summer time is a total kids' season. No heavy coats, no boots, no hats, mittens or toques. You don't even have to have your hair blow-dried before bed. Shorts, t-shirts, barefeet in the cool grass, chalk drawings on the sidewalk.

Everything seems so much more relaxed in the summer. Maybe it's the heat, or the fact that nothing seems so crucial in the summer. Work can be put off ("she's on vacation until next week, let's just do it then,") and you take the long way on the walk to work. The days are longer, and taking a walk in the pink glow of another beautiful sunset at 9 p.m. becomes a favourite ritual. A stopover at the park on the way home takes priority to housework.

In summer, there are patios, mohitos (with breakfast!) and cute sundresses. There are days spent lounging by the lake and nights around a cozy campfire.

For me, the best part about summer is lying in bed at night, listening to cars go by the open window. Falling asleep to the hum of frogs and crickets while a light breeze gently fans the linen curtains.