Gammelgarn.

The tent is cool in the night breeze. I stand outside it looking at the stars, no sound but that of the sea, comfortingly rolling to shore with the repetitive hush it has. We hadn't planned on swimming tonight, the evening was windy and cold, but as we stood and stared at the crashing surf, we couldn't help it. The brackish waters poured against our naked bodies; we laughed like children and rolled along the waves.

Later, in the bathroom mirror, I saw new tan lines had formed. Soft white streaks against scarlet collarbones. Tender skin, I couldn't help but smile.

Summer has arrived, at last.