Summer Series

you wake to the sound of the water hitting the shore the sun slowly rises above the horizon birds sing their morning songs the smell of burnt wood and hotdogs still clings to your hair and clothes in the bottom of your sleeping bag the sand still scratches on your feet the scent of fresh morning dew lingers in the air drops of water are still sitting clinging onto the roof of your tent you watch them slowly bead off you take pleasure in knowing that there is no other place to be but right here and slowly stretch your arms above your head and take in a deep breath 
 the laughter from the evening before rings in your ears