what summer means to me

Since I grew up in the Philippines, I actually grew up with summer all around me. There were rains, of course, and typhoons, and cold nights, but generally, it was as if the Philippines were in an eternal state of summer heat, sunshine, and brightness. I had always been thankful for sunny days—that is, sunny days meant the perfect time to chug beer after a hard day’s work, the best excuse to have saging con hielo or halo-halo twice in a day, and the most convincing argument for going to the beach, among others—but there were times when it would get so bright that I’d pray for gloomy, overcast days and jump up and down when the rains finally came. In a sense, I never really cared much for summer, never really appreciated it. I preferred the overcast days and cold nights of December and January and the rainy months of June and July.

It was only when I went to the US and stayed there for some time that I began to develop a real appreciation for summer, for the sun, for heat and warmth. Since I had never seen snow, I looked forward so eagerly to winter. I was prepared to welcome it, catch a snowflake and melt it in my tongue, and make snow angels. After my initial enjoyment of winter and the wonder of snow, however, I grew despondent and lethargic. I started feeling low. It was gloomy and dark and cold and sad. I found myself thinking of palm trees, sand, sea, and sky. In my head, I began going back to the Philippines and to the many summers I had spent there. When summer finally came, I did something I never thought I’d do: I sat outside for hours and soaked in the summer sun. I was happy and giddy for the first time in many months. (I have to say, however, that, despite my having developed this appreciation for the summer sun, fall is the most beautiful season for me. I love fall's burning colors, the falling, swirling leaves, the crunchy sound of feet stepping on leaves, and the nostalgic feeling fall seems to evoke in me.)

Now, I’m in Singapore, which, in terms of the weather, is quite similar to the Philippines. While I sometimes complain about how hot and humid it is, I don’t necessarily pray for gloomy, overcast days. Neither do I jump up and down when it rains. I believe that I have a better appreciation of the sun now. In fact, I think I have developed a certain liking for summer in that I actually got excited when I realized I would be working on this particular season. Besides the summer poem I had to analyze, I thought that I should look into other summer-related texts as well. I did find and recall a number, which made me grin.

The following entries detail these texts, provide a short linguistic analysis of each one, and offer some personal reflections. These texts share a common image of summer—that of joy, of ripeness, of celebration, of life. Each one, however, provides its own unique take on the form that this common image of summer takes.