I love the way my house smells in the summer. It doesn’t smell like anything specifically– just different. Better. The kind of smell you smell when trying to lie down touching the least of amount of surfaces possible and wearing the least amount of clothes possible, with three fans blowing on you and a bowl of ice in front of them to keep yourself cool. The kind of smell that inhabits your nose as you hear the ice cream man and subsequently shout his name as a sort of rally-cry to the neighborhood kids, and a warning side for the parents’ wallets.
It’s not quite summer, but NY still feels like it. I love it.