A friend of mine recently described a scent with a hint of half forgotten summer’s, and these thoughts have lingered in my mind ever since.
Sunsets that slowly melt from the sky, as the moon rises… taking her place of prominence on the stage that is the night sky.
I have 23 more sleeps until my next adventure. As my mind currently immerses itself in a new job and struggles to forget the ex, it’s hard to think much of this trip at all. What is wanderlust in Brunei? What will I make of meandering through Myanmar? What will these adventures do to my accent this time?
When I think of summer, I think of the beach. Beaches in Phuket, kayaking for a day because I smoked too much at a reggae bar and became convinced that my upper body needed some exercise after all the walking and sightseeing. The beach in Muscat where I needed to clear my mind of the intense drama and fear that had preceeded that moment. The beach in Tonga where the ocean crashed fiercely against the rocks and challenged every glossy travel brochure I’d seen before leaving NZ.
Summer is a time for reading, reflecting, romancing and exploring. These half forgotten summers of mine leave a trail of stolen kisses, lingering gazes and long lasting memories. Long may they last.
