The objects that make my summer

Addy Cousins

More stories from Addy Cousins


A collage of the “objects” that make my summer

Summer is the most talked-about season. 

Summer is filled with memories like the air in a hot air balloon. Thinking through my past summers and towards the summer speeding down the highway towards me, different objects stand out. 

A camera—I associate dressing up, long walks, and creativity with my camera. I hold the most memories with this one, and the thrilling summers I remember with my camera only add fuel to the tank of the speeding car of summer. I look forward to more memories captured, more long walks and bike rides, more trips to the gas station for slushies, and more endless late nights. I am filled with excitement at the stories that will be made overnight and on the long walks. Summer never touches the brakes when I see my camera. 

Another object is a paper airplane. Seen in fleeting moments, it moves into my life, and I am filled with glee at the chance to catch the object that is always in motion. I think of long talks, countless pictures from the places the paper airplane visits, and retellings of its adventures. The highway is empty, only one car in summer; it goes pedal to the floor each time I see the paper airplane. 

A pink carnation floats to mind next. I am reminded of floating on a lake, falling out of hammocks, and chaotic boat rides. I think of words; I am constantly talking when I see the pink flower. Stories are shared, books are recommended, and movies are watched. The pink carnation sits on the dashboard, and the wind of the highway gives the petals air and more beauty. 

A bowl of ice cream is a staple of summer for everyone. This bowl is always with me; I am never without it. I only now realize how much I need to appreciate the delicious and delicate ice cream. The flavor is always changing—mood swings are a part of the car ride. Sitting by the pool, late-night talks in bed, bonfires, and weeks spent up north are only some of the memories that surface when I think of a bowl of ice cream. Too much ice cream can make me sick, but this summer I will fill it with as much as I can. I will do better to appreciate each bite. The car comes to a stop at the bowl, stopping at an ice cream parlor, and for a minute taking a calming break, appreciating the moment it is in.  

The highway and speeding car get closer and closer as each day passes, and fresh joy fills in me as I think of summer.”

An addition to my list of objects is a hoodie. The car is in motion once again, and the sweatshirt comforts me and shields me from the wind of the highway. I hold no memories with the hoodie, but the thought of new ones made is an avant-garde kind of excitement. A different experience comes with the sweatshirt, and I think of all the new things that come with it. New music, new activities, and new movies. The car goes at a peaceful pace, enjoying the ride down the empty highway, excited for the new memories that come with summer. 

The highway and speeding car get closer and closer as each day passes, and fresh joy fills in me as I think of summer. Memories are remembered and modern memories are to be made. I will jump into the driver’s seat and push the pedal to go faster into the bliss of summer, each object stuffed into the car with me.