A crescent moon hangs above a cotton puffed cloud while the soft hiss of the tape rewinds to moments too sweet to let go. Pressed between the static and the melody lies a kaleidoscope of memories. Each track a story of warm summer nights, electric with the buzz distant crickets and hot crackling bonfires, tuned to the hum of tangled limbs and tussled hair. Skip to the innocent laughter that still lingers in the early morning hours, where the edges of time blur, each note a thread in the mixtape of a golden, endless season.