Moon Safari
There is this place I go whenever I hear Air's Moon Safari. It's a period when I first moved to Columbus and felt such joy to be exploring a new city. It feels optimistic, pure, innocent, and free, that point in my early twenties after leaving a bad relationship and a town full of memories I didn't want to remember. Of course, time goes by and those things eventually transformed into their opposite, just like all things decay. And I am sure I'm overlooking the difficult parts of that period - being broke, drinking too much, arguments and unfulfilling jobs, but that's the wonderful thing about music, and this music in particular. It takes you right to those parts you want to glimpse again, and you see it, welcoming and warm, like your favorite sweater that smells like home.
I have a lot of points in my life that feel like that, although they're not all tied to music. Sometimes they're accessed through a particular state of mind, or the way the sun is shining through the trees, or a taste, or a scent. These are my little nests, cozy places where I can recharge and take a step back to see exactly how far I've come. And to take a step back further, I know other people have their own internal universe of their memory nests and maybe mine intersects theirs, and I feel so thankful for that. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed thinking about all these connections and of course how one day they will all be gone. New residents will clear out old cobwebs.
Until then, I'll listen to my music, watch the sunshine through the leaves, and enjoy the moment, making new memories to visit when I grow even older than I am now.
I have a lot of points in my life that feel like that, although they're not all tied to music. Sometimes they're accessed through a particular state of mind, or the way the sun is shining through the trees, or a taste, or a scent. These are my little nests, cozy places where I can recharge and take a step back to see exactly how far I've come. And to take a step back further, I know other people have their own internal universe of their memory nests and maybe mine intersects theirs, and I feel so thankful for that. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed thinking about all these connections and of course how one day they will all be gone. New residents will clear out old cobwebs.
Until then, I'll listen to my music, watch the sunshine through the leaves, and enjoy the moment, making new memories to visit when I grow even older than I am now.