Sweet, sweet summer evenings by the sea. The scent of seaweed and wet stone, the sound of water lapping and distant laughter from kids throwing themselves into the waves. The air tastes of salt and meat slowly charring over hot coals. There’s just enough warmth left to let your skin dry after a swim in the ocean, between the tiny boats returning from a day beyond the horizon.
Why is it, that you can’t fully appreciate evenings like this, until they’re a distant memory?