Decemberists.
Yes, for me, The Decemberists are a mood. Like big is a smell. And coincidentally, they go together.
It's first cool week after summer and I'm fed up with my music. But then, without thinking, I put on 5 Song E.P. and Castaways and Cutouts and I know it's fall.
And I'm driving from Oxford to the southeast side of Cincinnati on 275, my dad's Durango full of the stuff I'd left in storage over the summer. Gran is waiting for me at Aunt Linda's house. Tomorrow, we'll be driving back to Myrtle Beach. I've just left all my friends at Miami. All the people who are responsible for this sentimentality. And the air is vast. The sun is warm, but the breeze is cool and carries every sweet smell it's ever touched. That's big.
This is the snapshot. The vertex of an angle. One segment is two years at Miami. The other spans two months and turns when my grandmothers die. It's working at Kligs through the fall. It's smoking weed. It's feeling comfortable, but then realizing this comfortable is not where you want to be.
All of this is The Decemberists. Five years later, it's still a terribly vivid emotion. So exact.
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2 comments:
I may be in the States this October and November and I'll certainly be taking advantage of Decembrists+fall weather=happiness.
I hope you're enjoying these shortening days. How's the winter where you are?
Give me a call when you're here. We should try and get together.
These shortening days are kind of disorienting, but they're kinda nice.
The winters are pretty similar to Cincinnati/Oxford. I think they're in the same weather pattern pocket.
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