Thursday, August 26th 10 at 12:27 am Leave a comment

The feeling I had happened when Sam told Patrick to find a station on the radio. And he kept getting commercials. And commercials. And a really bad about love that had the word “baby” in it. And then more commercials. And finally he found this really amazing song about this boy, and we all got quiet.Sam tapped her hand on the steering wheel. Patrick held his hand outside the car and made air waves. And I just sat between them. After the song finished, I said something.

“I feel infinite.”

And Sam and Patrick looked at me like I said the greatest thing they ever heard. Because the song was great and we all really paid attention to it. Five minutes of a lifetime were truly spent, and we felt young in a good way. I have since bought the record and I would tell you what it was, but truthfully, it’s not the same unless you’re driving to your first real party, and you’re sitting in the middle seat of a pickup with two nice people when it starts to rain.

When moments like that happen, it’s usually when you’re not really looking for it or paying attention too hard. They usually happen at the simplest of times, when everything is normal and quiet. Infinity can be found in the smell of a newborn baby’s head, a boy wishing on pennies in a fountain, your very favourite song live for the first time or a quiet moment with yourself.

We pulled back and relcined against the cement of the driveway. It was warm from the day and smelled like dirt and sun and I could feel tiny grains of grit pushing into my skin as my arms propped my head. Kristi layed back down into me – resting her body against mine – and her dad was laid next to her. The three of us, in a row, with our feet in the grass and our skulls against the pavement. Our eyes were to the stars. It’s so full and dark out where they live that you can almost see every illumination against the night sky. I had the stunning and shrinking realisation that they were all enormous balls of fire burning a million billion miles away. And I felt so small.

There was a wind blowing over our bodies, from right to left (the direction that they read it in some countries). It was heavy and fast enough to push my hair back from my forehead, but not enough that I cared how it looked. It was cool enough to make me think ‘a sweater would be nice,’ but not enough that I needed one.

There’s a big tree in the front yard and as the wind passed through its branches, the leaves rustled. There was country music to the right and voices all around, but the only thing that I heard was the wind pushing the leaves against each other. It was so loud and quiet at the same time. Just that perfect rustling sound. As the branches moved back and forth, the light that shone against the leaves caused them to look like they were glittering. Like sunlight shining through a pool or a candle flame behind textured glass.

All I kept thinking was ‘I love this moment, I love these people.’ I love this moment.

I love these people.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized. Tags: , .

Somewhere over the rainbow. 10 Albums of 2010.

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