Do me a favor and think about how you feel right now. Sun’s out, guns’ out, you got your favorite loose cottons on. When you look around you, does something—perhaps someone—catch your eye? Are you feeling yourself on a more acute level than you’re usually feeling yourself? Is there a constant tingle in your nether regions? Was your friend who wasn’t hot all of a sudden very hot and appealing to you?

Guess what, friends: it’s the Horny Time.

I’m referring to the period of time between early spring and late spring where everyone, everywhere wants to fuck and fuck a lot. Some may call these few sexy weeks “spring fever,” or some lesser descriptive qualifier that doesn’t quite explain what is happening to you or your body. The Horny Time is serious. You’ve emerged from winter. You were wearing a lot of clothes and now you are wearing less clothes. You are absorbing the Vitamin D you sorely lacked. You’ve even committed to exercising here and there to get the natural glow pumping back into your skin. You are ready for the Horny Time and the Horny Time is ready for you.

The Horny Time, especially in relation to the East Coast’s obnoxious weather patterns, really only occurs for the first four weeks of what we call “good weather.” It’s the same thing every year: there is one relatively warm or mildly warm day in, say, late March, and a bunch of morons are out in the streets wearing shorts and sandals and tank tops. This is not the beginning of the Horny Time. You may think that seeing an exposed clavicle or beefy shoulder is enough to instigate the full on Horny Time, but you’d be wrong. The Horny Time requires some patience. The last thing you want is to ignite Horny Time ethics and then have a rainy and cold 50-degree day knocking you back into winter malaise barely sixteen hours later.

Patience. Take it easy.

The Horny Time officially begins when there is an actual summer-like day that arrives a little too soon, but dead-smack in the center of Spring. It’s the first day one can walk outside in a summer dress or shorts (or what have you) and think, “Summer will quickly be in full swing. This day, it is something of an anomaly, but it reminds me of what is soon to come—three full months of beach days, cookouts, beer, and sleepless nights because my A/C is broken.” But these early hot days usually come with something even better: cool nights. The best of both worlds, like we live in goddamn San Diego. The slow build into summer—from about the end of May until the first day of summer (June 21) is a perfect capsule for the Horny Time, though results may vary based on year, city, and global warming. You’ll know when the Horny Time has arrived, and you’ll more or less know when it has faded.

Let me illustrate: In April, during a week of cold and rainy days, I barely thought about sex once, even when my period was coming up (a particularly horny time for any woman). I had been lifted from the doldrums of winter, but hadn’t quite left the house in search of ways to reignite my libido. (I refer to these useless, rainy weeks between winter and spring as the Lazy Time.)

However, one Saturday a few weeks later, the sun broke through the clouds. The temperature rose above 70 degrees. I put on a swooshy little sundress and sunglasses, boarded the subway, and immediately locked eyes with a man who was not exactly “my type.” He was a little too fit; his vibe was that of the square gym enthusiast. Without warning, I began to feel sex feelings toward him: a desire to meet at a quiet bar, drink barely a pint of some beer I don’t care about, and take him home to my cool, clean sheets. His forearms. His soft eyes. His unbuttoned, patterned shirt over-top-of a plain gray t-shirt. I wanted to bonk! And now! At the first stop into Manhattan, he got off the train without looking back at me, and I dejectedly began scrolling on my phone. It was not even 9 a.m. The Horny Time had begun.

The Horny Time is a short-lived and fleeting phenomenon. Everyone is, for a brief few weeks, clean and not sweaty and fresh-faced. We get haircuts and manicures and we take cool showers. We’ve spring-cleaned our apartments. We are eager to connect again to other members of the human species.

Our libidos spike, the gentle chrysalises in which we’ve been hiding begin to crack, and we’ve got on flirty new clothes and cool-guy shades. We know that sleeping next to another human in our beds will not be too sweaty or too uncomfortable—it’ll be just right. We are aware that even the slight glance of an attractive person in our purview will make us want to chitchat, possibly even flirt. In posing for group photos, the backs of others are not yet drenched in sweat and that makes it pleasant to touch each other. You have the Horny Time to thank for this, or perhaps it is the Horny Time that should be thanking you.

The only trouble with the Horny Time is in knowing how to truly take advantage of it before it is gone. By the end of June, early July at the latest, the cookouts and parties and spontaneous outdoor hangouts have grown in number, but so has the percentage of humidity in the air. Sweltering and suffering are two very un-Horny Time activities, and if you are experiencing them, you can know with certainty that the Horny Time has passed you by like so many fleeting young men riding tandem bicycles shirtless in a meadow (apt metaphor for the Horny Time). Here are some pieces of small advice to remember:

  • Talk to lots of people. Don’t be shy!
  • Wear loose clothes.
  • Bring protection wherever you go.
  • Sunscreen and water bottles are your friends.
  • Be open to new experiences—the Horny Time demands it.
  • Take it easy. Don’t harsh anyone’s vibes.

But most importantly, have fun. Once you’re aware of the Horny Time, you’ll begin to look forward to it every year, just like so many of us already do. There are only a few things that can get in the way of you living your best Horny Time annually—things like sunburn, hangovers, feeling shy, or being locked down to a significant other. Put those things out of your head and focus only on the Horny Time’s incredible bounty. Even if your yields from the Horny Time are a few arms brushed, a sexy kiss with a stranger, or a night spent flirting in the backyard of your favorite restaurant, you’ll know it was all due to the Horny Time. Live it, love it, and thank me later.

Illustration by Jim Cooke. Contact the author at dayna.evans@gawker.com.