Singing Shadows

Follow me light, as we gain upon the hill, find me my shadow here solid and still, vacant lies left under the rocks, small presents from others whose hands we don’t know, fire, wind, the crackle of ice as it falls in a storm, rain that finds the finest inclinations along the tree’s bark, all of it intricate movement, all of it as it must be, heat that dances between the trunks, pine needles that hide the paths to everyone but the animals, a storm in Summer is just a naturally occurring paradox, nothing was ever meant the way it was understood, which is why it’s all so special, even if you’re not paying much attention to all that, and all that you notice is the abstract. We are wandering light, footstep melodies that carry up to the windows and the hidden animals, background to the lives of others, sometimes heard over the stories that occupy them, here where we are just passersby, vague subtle shifts to the protagonists who never distinguish you from us, but that’s still kind of beautiful isn’t it? Even in the background, a tiny little tree on a distant horizon, quietly creating the greater meaning of the scene, giving silent context, there’s so much purpose, we are surrounded by it, and with that every day there is something beautiful, every single day, what more inspiration could you want? 

Back in high school, years ago now, I would ride through the park, my park, back from my friend’s places, usually after midnight. There once in a while, never before midnight, someone would set a single white candle upon the ground, light it and stack and shape rocks around it to protect the flame from the wind. I saw it a handful of times, every time I went over and inspected it, I wanted to meet the person, I thought about waiting for them, but I decided against it, it was obviously something important, deliberate and delicate, I spent a surprisingly large amount of time thinking about it, this glimpse into another person’s life I had somehow or other stumbled upon. I was curious, I had questions, most important though was wanting to know whether it was a celebratory or mournful act? It always felt sad to me, but, perhaps that’s my own personal bias. It was done with so much care, the stones were picked for their shape, never the same from what I could tell.

However I still decided not to pursue the person, it wasn’t intended for me and given the circumstances I doubt I would’ve understood it, it’s difficult to really understand the attachments of others, their rituals, often they even appear to contradict their core beliefs, but we make exceptions, when it’s something important. Everyone has them, I have a few, which I’ve no doubt would seem silly to others, they’re private things, things that need thousands of words to be understood by others, but I understand them, so that’s enough, for me. And that’s what I figured it would be like for that person.

Separately it’s a beautiful Summers day, we’re expecting a thunder storm tonight, so I’m off to my park, Summer has a distinct musical feeling to it, and these songs come back into heavy rotation on my Mp3 player whenever Summer comes round. If you haven’t heard some of them give them a try.

Holland – Sufjan Stevens http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjllcAmngpA

1979 – Smashing Pumpkins http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrivjzw0RlI

Fever Dream – Iron & Wine http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvtRLtmEhvM

After An Afternoon – Jason Mraz http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5lSFwOQ12pQ

The Nest – Jose Gonzalez http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-qr12OJQ0Y

Have you Forgotten – Red House Painters http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmpLdYfphjE