It feels tonight as though tides are crashing and no shoreline left. So many pressures and so many fronts to watch...and this song, the guitar lilting, lilting and reminding me so of that scene in a book...Tristan waving farewell to All That as his ship leaves and she's not going to be there to see him off, no. Only then does Arthur realize the notes he'd always played - they were the gentle lift and fall of a vessel at sea, of a heart on the waves.
It reminds me, too, of my youth that knew those tides, knew where the moon would rise. Magic of driftwood and shell, and arcade jewelry bringing steps in the sand, and a curve to my lips at that first taste of that craft - the conjuring of man, no - boy - and love, a kind of love. Ages gone but the sound of the waves brings it all back.
But then there was wind in the still new greenery of the pastures we drove by today and it was like ripples on shallow water. And I looked at him, knowing that the smiles he brings me even in my troubled mind...that it is a gift I do not appreciate enough, having forgotten just how little I used to smile. Yeah, he's pretty much like this - with one hell of a better casting technique, thanks. I often do not deserve him.