Seasons, Broadly

It’s funny how we’d go to the Keys in August — are thereabouts — year after year with the occasional break between.

And now we’re just back from time in Mount Desert Island and this very week last year were in our way to Nova Scotia.

We hadn’t been to Bar Harbor for like 12 years? And we’d gone what? Two or was it three other times?

Future Islands breakout hit, Seasons (Waiting on You) — the rhythm then the tune then the lyrics as I’ve heard them. 

Seasons change. Seasons change.

But I’ve been waiting on you.

And then the lyrics I’m looking up for the first time and damn there’s a whole lot more going on there even if I’ve heard that song a hundred times, maybe more.

I’m thinking of walking along the road and visiting Thunder Hole, even if it wasn’t the best thundering time and the time before that maybe 12 or 14 years before that that was a better thundering time and what of that I was carrying with me then and carrying with me now.

I’m thinking about how you refer to someone as him in a crowd of hims or her in a crowd of hers and what happens in that moment for those that hear you.

I’m thinking about how it has always felt a little sad to me when you color up at a poker table — and how this connects for me to everything I saw up close with dementia.

It’s Sunday morning in Baltimore.

I have coffee and I know who I am a little bit.

But I don’t know what I am to be, at least a little bit.

It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok, it’s ok.