Sunday, September 10, 2006

A passing moment gone

It's a dreary Sunday. I'm having a “down” day, where I don't leave the house, and eat lots of ice-cream and cookies. I've listened to Rocky Votolato's “White Daisy Passing” at least fifteen times already today:

Please slow it down
There’s a secret magic past world
That you only notice when you’re looking back at it
And all I wanna do is turn around

I'm going down to sleep on the bottom of the ocean
'Cause I couldn’t let go of the water at the setting sun
'Cause I couldn’t let go of the passing moment gone

The song speaks to the strange mood that I've been in. Maybe it's because birthdays are conducive to extensive self-reflection and reminiscences. I can't help but think of my life as all these “passing moments” that I've desperately tried to cling onto, but to no avail. The golden leaves I've written about in the previous post are now billowing in the wind, under a blank sky. The tree by the shed is almost completely leafless. The green-gold and burning blue of a few days ago are just another such passing moment. I had taken it for granted then, and am only now seeing how beautiful it truly had been.

Here are pictures of my last walk along the bypass a few days ago, probably the last time until next spring.

* Watch a music video of Votolato's live performance of "White Daisy Passing" here.


  1. Don't know Rocky Votolato's music, but I'd like to check it out soon, seeing that you've named him as one of your favorites, and we have similar tastes. Don't make me worry about you though. I don't like seeing you fret about little things.

  2. When I am blue, I get out one of my Nanci Griffith albums and turn the volume up full blast. She writes her own songs and the stories woven into her songs just put into words some of the elusive restlessness/sadness/loner-ness of my own heart.

    I hope this present grayness doesn't eat away at your energy and joy. Not all "blue-ness" is bad. I mean, there is a melancholy that is part of some of us...just so that melancholy doesn't rob us of the joy that is also ours to hold on another day.