Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

The music skips through my headphones, “First thing we’d climb a tree and maybe then we’d talk, or sit silently and listen to our thoughts“. This song is cold coconut water on a hot day. Through the screen door, I can see a bee buzzing in the neighbour’s giant lavender plant. The chip with cheese I just bit into is salty and creamy on my tongue.

I’ve loved this song for twenty years, but never owned it. I tried to buy the album when it came out, but I bought the wrong one, and since I’d already spent the money, I never let myself buy the one I wanted. I was really into playing the starving artist back then. Today the memory of the song filtered into my consciousness, with a twinge of regret. Then it occurred to me I could just buy it now. A dollar twenty-nine later, the song was finally mine. When I listen to it, I’m twenty, driving with the windows down, walking barefoot in green grass, staying up late to talk about Art and the rest of my life around a fire. It’s good to remember the way I dove into life then, how much I marvelled at and relished it. Listening now, I feel some of that old passion. I think I’ll keep listening.

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