summer in the city

When daylight savings kicks in -- finally -- it always seems to me that the whole city just lets out this huge breath. The tight winter air exhales from our lungs; the dusty particles float weightlessly into the warm air and we feel lighter, and just that little bit more giddy. Stockings are pulled gingerly from legs, heavy coats move to the back of the wardrobe and painted toenails peek gamely from sandals.   I love the subtle shift in energy; we feel freer, braver and the world seems a little easier to exist in.

As i type, windows are being flung open around me. Snatches of conversation reverberate in the stifling air, and the subtle smells of roasting chicken and simmering spag bol drift from kitchens. Wet towels are flung over railings, white sheets float gaily on the adjacent rooftop, and the British backpackers have set up their own little rooftop campsite; with their cups of hot tea and buttered Vegemite squares they could be taken for true-blue Aussies. 

Strains of overlapping music drifts from the different apartments -- my next door neighbour favours the vocal stylings of Britney, Christina and Whitney, while the couple across the alleyway watch Will & Grace reruns on repeat, laughing at the same jokes over and over. The Irish musician upstairs who inhales a never-ending joint taps his feet in tune to Belle+Sebastian and the Japanese family down the hall have their tiny TV on a neverending cycle of cheesy cartoons. It all forms a beautiful sort of cacophony and I suddenly have the fiercest desire to run and get the largest glass jar i can get my hands on and bottle it all up; all the sounds and songs and smells, all the talking and fighting and laughing and that incomparable feeling of weightlessness; of summer in the city.