Strawberry lemonade

This is maybe my fifth attempt at writing about my experiences so far this summer. Now I'm a fairly verbose person, at least when it comes to the written word; my problem hasn't been thinking of words to describe my summer; it's been thinking of the right words to describe my summer.

So much traveling has happened during the past three months, beginning with a tri-continental celebratory grad trip and ending perhaps with a quick jaunt to Colorado for a family reunion in two weeks. And in each of the places that I've visited so far, I've left little pieces of my heart.

There's a piece of my heart in a barn in Lula, Georgia.

There's a piece of my heart at the very top of the London Eye.

There are pieces of my heart scattered among the trees surrounding Hume Lake.

And there are big ol' chunks of my heart on the back of an elephant, in the middle of a township, behind that sign at the Cape of Good Hope, all in South Africa.

I have a lot more to say about my summer (I'm hoping my thoughts will float to the surface soon), but for now, I'll leave it at this: all the life I've been living so far this summer tastes like a tall glass of strawberry lemonade with sugar around the rim.

I don't want to overdo it on the strawberry lemonade, but it tastes mighty delicious for now.