My body hates summer. Specifically, my body hates summer weather. More specifically, my body hates all temperatures above 21 °C. It’s so exhausting. Sweatiness, immovable air, damp clothes, the inability to take off any more of them to cool down any further. Sure, there’s AC in my flat, but going outside during 30 °C is a punishment all the same. No matter how good of a shape I’ve ever been in. Even rain, which I adore, can become a nuisance by increasing air humidity and thus making this season—beloved by many—even more cumbersome to me.
Yet, I yearn for the lush feel of summer, the radiant sun intertwining with the greenery of nature, the whites of the cities blooming with intense light absorption, creating high contrast that begs for street photography (which benefits plenty from the increased light, especially on film). There are more feelings that emerge in me when I think of summer—some barely conscious ones, unattended and unlabeled—that are far from unique and relate to childhood.
As I try my best to avoid being exposed to summer heat, I quench my thirst for this unconscious nostalgia by means of art.
It was summer 2024 when I played A Short Hike. I could not have asked for better [accidental] timing. This little two-hour video game transported me to a world that felt so safe and peaceful I hardly managed to put it down. The entire video game is about the young bird Claire, who’s spending her summer with her aunt on an island, journeying to the peak to catch a signal and call her mom. Claire runs into some chill characters on her way up the mountain. A few of them are Theo, a relaxed photographer snapping shots and talking about life; Avery, who’s full of energy and ropes her into a goofy game of stickball; and a painter bird quietly doing their thing with a canvas. These little run-ins give the hike its charm and make the world feel cozy.






There’s a forest, a mountain, a waterfall—plenty of varied locations—and you, as Claire, can glide over those sceneries, which feels so satisfying and calming. There’s something about the camera movement, crunchy pixels, everblowing wind, and the way distant vistas are rendered that gives this little game a quality of liveliness. Almost as if it breathes.
There’s something more important about this video game for me. It brings me back to childhood—not even in a relatable way, it just triggers a very specific feeling, or a state. Early childhood is, needless to say, of paramount importance in terms of the core development of the human psyche. It molds certain behavioral patterns, integrates trauma responses, builds the initial belief system, etc. An obvious (mostly) common aspect of childhood is being unburdened by the weight of the world. The entire drama of being is usually encapsulated within family and friends. A child’s mind is not burdened with a background process in the brain to feed a family or prevent democratic backslide. And there was something even more important for me in childhood during summer—summer vacations. During this time I was free to taste the present—play, rest, educate myself, have my own little childish adventures, be content (most of the time), and really, just sink into the now. There was something magical about it. Sure, there were problems, conflicts, unpleasantness, heartbreaks, disappointments—but all of those were intimate, they were mine, they were interpersonal. I had not yet consciously inherited the weight of societal expectations and responsibilities. I was in an exploration mode.
The “vibe” of those summers was vibrant, bright, contrasty, bold, free, uncrowded—as if everyone were on their own little adventures or explorations.
This state of pure being is what A Short Hike transposes me into. It’s not really about childhood even—I, for one, did not have a pleasant childhood per se. Most of my memories of it are buried deep, and I do not yearn to go back to it. What it transposes me into is those few days in summer when I was happy. Happy not as joyful, but happy as peaceful, content, not seeking fulfillment. Doing things for the joy of it, not from the need to do them.
This feeling nowadays often evades me. If you want to taste this feeling for yourself, I would highly recommend A Short Hike to you. Just play for the joy of it and perhaps reflect on it—not to take shelter in the past.
There’s this artist I follow on Instagram: sseongryul. I think their art invokes the exact same state in me. I hope you, dear reader, will also enjoy their work.
Maybe it’s also one of the reasons why I find Call Me by Your Name so refreshing—as if I’m breathing fresh summer air while watching it. Or playing the first few days in Firewatch as Henry. Or even in Animatrix, following Yoko and the kids (story: Beyond).


I’ve been made aware of a new game that I have yet to play, but it promises to take me back to that state again—Despelote.
Your inner child is not gone. Your happiness is not gone. It is not out there to seek. It is not something that has been lost and needs to be acquired again. It’s always there, veiled by the ever-increasing Drama of the apparent world. We just sometimes need some triggers to taste it and then perhaps to reflect on it.
In terms of musical recommendations, I don’t think anything could beat Joe Hisaishi’s Spirited Away score to achieve the same state.