There are wishes, and there are dreams, and then there are songs that make things seem possible even when deep down you know they are probably never going to come to be. There are beaches and laughter, discarded straw hats and bare feet, and music; always music. It is a celebration, someone has just gotten married, and we have wandered off down the beach where there are less crowds, less camera flashes, less family that they do not even remember inviting. A circle of friends, so to speak, but we are more of a family then any we were ever been born into. The sun goes down. The music plays on.
I have had the same dream, with slight variations, for so many years that it has become a bedtime story to my subconscious. Sometimes I touch it, feel the close proximity, smell the salt in the air. Sometimes you are there with me, when the faces are clear enough to distinguish. Sometimes it is the beginning I see, and sometimes it is the end.
Holiday in Spain :: Counting Crows