Sunday, September 22, 2019
Seasons of the Year Essay Example for Free
Seasons of the Year Essay It was the summer break and we were hanging out at Nadias back porch. The day was the epitome of summer: warm day, light breeze, white cotton dresses swaying among green grass. We were enjoying tall glasses of iced tea and freshly-baked oatmeal cookies, while trading stories. It was just like when we were kids, barely into puberty and boys. That was a time of daily neighborhood bike trips, of flowers nicked from unsuspecting neighbors, of promises that we will never be separated from each other, which we swore to by having identical ballpoint tattoos, of ending our daily adventures with tall, cold glasses of iced tea and freshly-baked cookies supplied by Nadias accommodating father, while listening to Lizs never ending (but never boring) tall tales. Those were the best months of my life, and I only realize that now, when they have become a distant past. Like the tire tracks we left with our bikes, the flowers we innocently uprooted, the washable tattoos, the ice cubes in the long-since consumed iced tea and oatmeal cookies, the words Liz used to narrate her imaginative stories, we took these for granted, reassured that we can do them again and again. The foolishness of youth. Who would have thought that Nadias father would be involved in a car accident, and become semi-paralyzed while we were in high school? Who would have thought that vibrant Liz would drop out of college in our second year to join an organization that deals with human rights violations overseas? And who would have thought Diana would become separated from Nadia, Carrie, and me as she leaves for Florida in a few days before flying to Japan? Our last summer of being together, before high school graduation, I realized that autumn does come early. And so does the desolation of winter.            We were looking up at the blue sky when Liz suggested we go somewhere. We were all for it, as it was our first summer together since we started college, but we had no idea where to go. All of a sudden, Diana suggested we go to Hollywood now. We knew it was crazy, but we immediately got up, piled into Carries car, and drove away with all five of us in the car. All we had were the bills and coins in our pockets and knapsacks, the clothes on our backs, Carries car, Nadias camera, and each other.            At the first stop, we bought beer and junk food. Everyone except for Carrie drank; Nadia also drank, albeit she only had a bottle. She kept taking pictures of everyone, from Lizs crazy tongue stunts, to Dianas impersonations, to my dazed reaction to everything (â€Å"What? Where are we? Whats that?†), to the view of outside from Carries seat. We were being crazy and immature, and it was like being back again to our childhood summers.            It was a long car ride, but I do not remember much of what transpired then. Only, I was looking outside for sometime, and I was amazed at how one feels a certain attachment towards clouds; we were in a moving vehicle, yet I kept on looking at a certain cloud, pulling it towards me as we drove to Hollywood. The sky behind it kept on changing hues: blue, red, purple. I knew that no two clouds looked alike, especially in different seasons; yet, they are still clouds, made of the same material.            We soon reached Hollywood, and being inebriated, transformed into giddy kids in a playground. The rest of the Hollywood tour I can only remember in a drunken blur: taking pictures with nadias camera hand prints of stars taking pictures of the stars themselves of crazy food in crowded diners of break dancing kids of shimmering lights of gangs approaching people and bashing pounding shouting running around hollywood looking for the car walking to the same places over and over and over again losing the car carrie panicking shivering shouting crying taking the bus home drowsy because of the rocking bus like waves of the sea looking up at night-time clouds still same clouds though different diana running frantic to airport plane bound for florida is boarding when we arrive hugging goodbye waving tears laughter friends            Looking back, I have always seen summer as the best time of the year. It was the most familiar to me, the most comforting; I get to be with my friends again, and just hang out. Cotton dresses are always softer, and green grass is greener during summer. I get to watch the blue sky as familiar, white fluffy clouds drift. Yet, I have forgotten that they are the same water vapor forming shapes, whatever the season, just as my friends are still my friends, wherever we may be, how old we may be. I have also forgotten that though autumn may come early, it also brings with it the promise of a new summer. And if summer does end early, I can always pull out all those summer memories and remember.
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