Buckets of Rain...

I dont remember the last time summer was like this.

This reaching of emotional pits, dealing with losses and then going through magic as crazy as this.

There's magic in the flickering of lights at the dead of night, in filling the house with the smell of cakes on the verge of being baked. And then there is some more magic in seeing something for the hundredth time and yet not seeing enough of it.

This summer will always be a summer of ice creams, crazy early mornings, crazier late nights and nibbling at cornflakes and curd.

Touchwood.