Some years, deep into July I’ll glance at my pale skin and my untouched bathing suit and snap to the realization: “Oh my gosh, it’s summer!”

As a child, summer would loudly announce itself on the last day of school. That marked a clear transition from days defined by early morning wakening and late evening homeworking to the glorious days of sleeping till ten and playing outside past dark.

When that last school bell rang, it was unquestionably, officially summer.

But now, in full blown adulthood, I’ve learned that it’s up to me to acknowledge the season. Nobody is going to pull me out from behind my laptop, walk me outside, and slap an ice cream cone in my hand.

It’s on me—and any of us who can easily get swept up in the day-to-day routines—to partake in our own rituals that squeeze the most out of summer.

This year, picking bright, sweet fruit has been my tactic...

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