I like that. Often when we think back on the summers of our youth, we might remember trips we took--camping, Disneyland, big vacations to wherever. And then if you peel back that layer there's an inner layer of going to the pool, swim lessons, sleepovers, night games, family reunions, fireworks on the driveway. Peel back another layer and you have consuming popsicles in quick succession, filling the freezer full of treats, reading a whole book series, having lazy lemonade stands. And then you finally get to it-- the "beating heart of lazy monotony," as Sean just said. Waking every day to morning chores and structured time which bleeds out into afternoon calm, playing video games, watching a movie. General lolling about. Eating pizza for dinner and sitting outside because it's finally tolerable. Staying up too late because the night is when it gets good outside, a new kind of day with new possibilities. And true summer sighs over you with that quiet, warm blanket breeze that the wind chimes just catch, lazy in and of themselves. And that's sort of what I love most about summer. That steady rhythm that's been more pronounced this year because we had nowhere to go and not much to do. The summer in-between the big things, in those gaps where it really settles. Sleeping outside, looking at the stars, being content with the smallest thing. Those gaps have come to the forefront and that's where I've found myself this summer, inside those gaps. Even if we don't do anything big or fun, the do-nothingness is its true essence which we've fully embraced. I'm going to miss it.