A yearning from deep within

I long for spring. I long for summer.
I yearn for the smell of the sea and the feeling of sunshine on my face. The snow outside has barely started to melt and still I can't wait to put away my winter boots, banish my winter coat to the deepest darkest corner of my wardrobe and to be able to leave my house in a matter of seconds, without the angsty procedure of extra knitted socks, boots, jacket, scarf, mittens, hat...

I want to be able to walk the streets of sun drenched cities wearing a summer dress and a thin cardigan. I miss the smell of sun lotion and even the look of bare ground. Just normal gravel, asphalt, roads not covered in snow and ice.
I miss the smell of summer nights when you ride your bike through deserted streets. I miss sitting by the fire in the garden until it gets dark and the bats come swooping over the lawn. I miss skinny dipping and heading to the shop for nothing else but ice cream.

I think that I'm starved of summers after my many years in Scotland. Being a Swedish west coast-girl my summers were always dominated by salt water, sand and sunshine. Spending the summer months is Edinburgh they became synonymous with a light drizzle, the occasional day in the park, sweating in beer gardens. And still, I loved it. But I need my salt water, need the smell of it on my skin.
And above all I long for the hope that spring gives. The resurrection.

And I'm sick of having cold toes. Sick to death.