Summer haze.

The sun glints from car windscreens. Shadows curl away as the sun reaches its height. Workmen divest themselves of heavy gear, replacing their wardrobe with shorts and tees, whilst businessmen find their inner continental as shades appear and ties vanish. Summer takes ahold and whispers holidays and adventure to the inner child in us all. I am transported to my Enid Blyton moments - escaping the shackles of the real world and becoming involved with secret capers and days of daring do.

I swirl out the longing with a swig of bitter espresso, and put my excitement on hold for a few more weeks. The coffee chain plays music that speaks to me of sixth form and university - and I am aware that my past has now reached the level of pastiche. The return of the nineties, a benchmark wrapped in a nostalgic sarong, reassuring and comforting, yet a moment of arrested development that take the real away from the now. Ironically the strings of 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' cut through my thoughts and begin the swirl of push and pull thoughts that are the Laurel and Hardy of my mind during the day.

On such a glorious day the mind meanders through possibilities with a disregard for the logic and rules of the alphabet. Words fall like spillikins, precariously placed and impossible to reach without disrupting the whole pile. These are sentences - floating on a whim, and yet dependant on a structure - however random, to keep them joined, to discover meaning.

Now the mind opens up, the season calls us to whimsy and exploration. Wanderlust and imagination are provoked. The summer asks us all to be movie stars, to embrace a world outside of ourselves; and now that I have broken out of my head, I look up to feel the sun on my face, embrace the blinding second - quickly closing my eyes to catch the willow the wisp left behind, and smile.