Summer Nights
Lucy Donaghey
The waves lapped in a monotonous harmony. The blur of swirling colours had long been
engulfed by the blackness of the night. The sky was an inky canvas, freckled with a sea of
stars that framed the shining moon. It reflected off the water and the calm sea mirrored the
bright rays that spread across the rippling waves, illuminating the darkness. We sat around
the bonfire. You could only just make out people’s faces aglow with dancing yellow flickers,
their smiles beaming. The songs we sang echoed in my ears, disrupting the therapeutic
splashes of the water against the shore.
These are the nights we crave, the ones without boundaries. Where we stand on the top of
the cold rock staring down at the water far below. When your best friend grabs your hand
and yells, ‘1, 2, 3, JUMPPPPPP,’ yanking you into the cold blue sea below. Falling down so
rapidly, so weightlessly. As you hit the water you gasp desperately for warmth in fast
panting gulps, but as you bob among the calm curling waves, laughing, it all seems worth
it. Lying hand in hand like a starfish on top of water, letting the tide drift us slowly back to
shore.
These are the best nights, where we nocturnal dwellers bask in night’s serenity. Nothing but
a five pound note in our pocket and a swimsuit. Soft sand between toes and salt-tousled
waves of golden hair to our waist.
Locked eyes like fingers woven, and summer promises made not to be broken. Because
never will we forget how we sang and laughed until our stomachs hurt, or how we jumped.
Jumped too far into dreams that can only be pursued when stars shine, but even the stars
must sleep sometimes, and so must we.