If you have been lucky enough to be her—or to know her—you understand that she operates by a different set of rules than the rest of the year. La Chica del Verano has a uniform, though she never plans it. It is the sunkissed glow on her shoulders, the tan lines from a forgotten swimsuit strap, and the way her hair gets lighter (and wilder) with every passing week.
As September approaches and the light changes from honey to amber, she begins to fade. The tan washes off. The sandals get put back in the closet. The sundress is replaced by a blazer. La Chica del Verano
She wears linen that wrinkles without apology and sandals that carry the dust of a thousand cobblestone streets. She doesn’t check her reflection in car windows; she checks the sky to see if the clouds are rolling in. Her jewelry is made of shells, friendship bracelets, or a simple gold chain that glistens against her salt-water skin. During the winter, we live by the clock. During the summer, la chica lives by the light. If you have been lucky enough to be
Because next year, when the solstice comes again, she’ll be waiting for you by the shore—ready to dive in all over again. As September approaches and the light changes from
La Chica del Verano isn't really a person you leave at the beach. She is a state of mind. She is the courage to be a little slower, a little freer, and a little more open to the present moment.