It is almost time to leave.
“The sun crept down toward its setting place behind the Salinas River, and a bird began to sing wonderfully from the golden stubble of the field. It was as beautiful under the branches of the willow tree as anything in the world can be.”
East of Eden, John Steinbeck
Inspiration
I want to record a memory. Make a commitment not to forget. Let the time and place etch the grooves of the LP. It is a melancholy song I can’t chase away. The tune replays. It settles in, lingers, and yet I know there will be new words and music. Selfishly I write for myself.