The Linger of Summer
A sensory reflection on what stays with us, long after the sun sets
Summer doesn’t tiptoe in. It arrives in full bloom—bright, buzzing, and impossible to ignore. There’s a looseness to the season, a soft shedding of structure. Mornings stretch out, evenings linger, and time feels more fluid.
I’ve always thought of summer as a season that engages the body first. Bare feet in hot sand. Sticky fingers from melted treats. Skin warmed by sun and cooled by water. It’s a season of sensation—of turning outward, yet dropping in.
As a summer baby, I’ve always felt tethered to this season. Maybe it’s the Leo in me, but I come alive when the days are long and golden, when the pace slows enough to savour, and when celebration doesn’t need an occasion.
This year, I’ll be spending the start of summer in my hometown—Toronto—where long, bright days feel hard-earned and full of memory.
Here, a collection of the scents, sounds, tastes, touches, and sights that shape my sense memory of summer.
SUMMER SIGHTS
Golden light casting long shadows
Sunglasses perched in hair, always
Towels drying in the sun, rumpled and striped
Farmers’ market stalls overflowing with color
Bare shoulders, tanned skin, linen everything
Tables set outside, meals stretching into dusk
SUMMER SOUNDS
Ice cubes clinking in a glass of something cold
The hum of fans, patio chatter, cicadas coming alive
Flip-flops scuffing down a dock or garden path
Pool water lapping quietly between conversations
Music drifting from an open window (or your summer playlist on loop)
SUMMER SCENTS
Coconut sunscreen rubbed into warm skin
Peaches at their peak, sweet and potent
Fresh basil torn over dinner al fresco
Salty air clinging to a beach towel
Smoke curling from a grill or campfire
Linen sundresses catching the scent of citrus or jasmine
SUMMER TASTES
Heirloom tomatoes with olive oil and flaky salt
A glass of chilled rosé or sparkling water with lime
Stone fruit eaten over the sink, juice running down your wrist
Grilled everything—zucchini, peaches, halloumi
Ice cream melting faster than you can keep up
Leftovers eaten late at night after a golden hour hang
SUMMER FELT
Warm skin against cool cotton sheets at the end of the day
A woven beach bag hanging on your shoulder
The crisp snap of fresh produce at the market
Sand stuck to the backs of your legs
A breeze lifting your hair during golden hour
The weightlessness of floating in the pool
Summer reminds me to be in my body. To say yes to the long walk, the spontaneous social plans, the second scoop. To soften the schedule, and stretch out the moments that feel good. It’s a season that doesn’t ask for much—but offers so much in return when we choose to stay present.
What are the sense memories that define your summer?
What sounds, smells, or tastes instantly drop you into the season?
Feel free to leave a comment—I’d love to hear them. 🌞
Warmly,
KEEP READING:
I’m obsessed with your seasonal sensory stories!! But as fellow summer baby, I’m especially into this one. in addition to much of what you shared, I’ll also add:
- the smell of clothes & sheets dried on a line in the sun
- that sharp sweet taste of peaches and nectarines on repeat
- spitting out cherry pits
- the feeling of saltwater drying on your skin in the sun
- fresh bbq salmon on repeat