Summer is better than winter. I know that technically it is not winter yet, but to me everything between October and mid-June qualifies as winter. And I don't like it. Except for the one thing that's unquestionably better in winter than in summer: the beach.
At the beach in winter, there are no bathing suits, so no one cares if you're fat. Also, if you happen to sit on a bunch of burrs, like I did once when I was very little, you will be wearing pants, so it won't hurt.
But most importantly, in the summer there is no solitude. There are no empty boardwalks, no unpopulated expanses of sand waiting for your footprints.
In August, you couldn't stand here and take this picture. There would be too many people, too many brightly colored towels.
You would never encounter, in all the distractions of a beach in summer, this feather, trapped here between the planks until it finally blows away.