Summers in Portland meant many things to me: strolls in Laurelhurst Park, bright evenings, Saturday mornings spent at the farmers' market, an afternoon spent under St. John's Bridge at the summer jazz festival, and grilled peaches with a dollop of vanilla-specked creme fraiche.
I don't own a grill. I don't even know if peaches are available in Phnom Penh. They probably are, though with a hefty price tag. I only know that I am craving quiet, lazy days this weekend. And simplicity.