Folks get 'round in the sunshine

Everybody does, even when it only goes up as high as your eyes like it does here in November.

Then as it was, then again it will be

Is anyone else surprised when they (re)learn that Zeppelin released an album in 1975? Aren't they indelibly of 1969-72? Or, my god, in 1979? I mean, I like those songs to be sure, but they are kind of the shadow of the former selves.

This one still has the hip-hugger pants magic, in a way, and the Green World/cheeseball lyrics ("We are eagles of one nest / The nest is in our soul"). 

Today, I think it just sounds like autumn time. And looking back at paths not taken. 

Strange ways coming today

Summer’s snaking backward in memory and the air is clear and feels anxious. It’s all starting to die around you, so hang on to excitement now. Once the pall comes, you can get to work.

Just follow your eyes.

I can't stop listening to



Maybe because it's fall now, and trees are front and center, dying gorgeously. Though this sounds like the stark ones of November, blotting a pale sky, their former glorious dressing rotting and crunching underfoot.

This was the peak of the epic show I saw in lush, pre-solstic summer.

Unearthed from the 80s: You know you'll always thrill me

Perfect for the day that fall sends silvery, slender, cold drabs of water down into your sun-drenched eyes from a leaden sky. Autumnal stabbing into your heat-baked, flowery heart.

Who broke my heart? Autumn? No. It has to arrive.

It was summer. For leaving. Leaving all of a sudden.

Low sun.

Been thinking about this one quite often over the last week, on the sunny days. It shines, and it's even warm in the rays, but its path is low, almost like the sun is a marble rolling around the side of a bowl, instead of arcing high (I didn't study physics in school).



The light, though, is still golden, and lovely, even if it's shining across, not down.

Who is to say you'll be livin' in sadness

All I want to do is listen to Ernie Isley guitar solos and look at the sky and the leaves before they both go away, for the first harbinger of the Great Losses of autumn is my nasal and bronchial passages gone haywire.

They call it fall for a reason.

I just don't want this to go away. Please?

At least Ernie will stick around. I can even revisit the context of it all.

Random Play: Running over the same old ground

How do you make things new, every day, when days mimic each other, and especially when heading into the perpetually gray or low-light days?

Routines and not-routines. Finding the novel and embedding it in the regular, by seeing. And listening. And doing that again.

Is that growing?

At the very least it's (like) discovering something (new) on the radio.


Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here by larsen42

It's getting to be what I like to call Pink Floyd weather. It has to be something about all the fading light that--you know what?--makes each day different. Huh.

Perhaps I should kick off the season with something new.