Legs akimbo and fire in their eyes. The beautiful boys of summer. Their perfect brown backs and hands waving everywhere at once. Energy for a lifetime used all at once. Flying net-less through the air.
The boys of summer see gold and silver linings in the paddle of a canoe. Walls are to be conquered, no signs of trespassing for these boys of summer. They have a secret language that will last them until they hit their inexorable winter.
The winged boys of summer know nothing about fear or death, bless them always.