In the stillness of summer...

A bucket full of sidewalk chalk.

 

A full imagination.

 

A warm summer day.

And a boy who wrote his name by himself for the first time ever.

Seaside

As swallows turning backward
When half-way o'er the sea,
At one word's trumpet summons
They came again to me -
The hopes I had forgotten
Came back again to me.

But be my hopes rewarded,
Or be they but in vain,
I have dreamed a golden vision,
I have gathered in the grain -
I have dreamed a golden vision,
I have not lived in vain. 

~Robert Louis Stevenson