... as I get into the car, my friend starts hassling around with his IPod. We make it down to the bottom of the hill, around the curve and out towards the city. He tries to get the soundtrack for our ride going and some grumpy expressions arise through his beard... Still silence... Then... "THE WIND BLEW A PATH THROUGH THE FALLEN LEAVES" ... And you feel it, the sun is suddenly brighter, the air lighter and everything around us just flies and flows. The beard is now worn by a smile.
Sometimes you remember the moments when you heard a song for the first time. One of my favorite things to happen. Yesterday.
Jukebox selections from the attic: dusty, wooden, floor creakin and almost forgotten.
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