Rebecca and I just returned from a long overdue honeymoon. When we married three years ago next week, we took a few days together to drive up to Maine for what millennial couples like us call a "Minimoon". It was beautiful, but brief. Time marched on, work and lack of work intervened, and for a long while we didn't have much time for vacations. Aside from the minimoon, we'd never really taken a trip together other than to visit friends or family. Finally, circumstances aligned and we flew off to magical São Miguel Island in the Azores. The trip was one joyful adventure after another. It dawned on me during our vacation that we'd probably never spent so much consecutive uninterrupted time together. It was about time.
In this song, I write about sharing time and space with another person. I think the words wind and swerve between past, present, and future. The landscape is unfixed, so the other person becomes the stable horizon. I'm a bit sad our trip is over, and I think you can hear a note of that here. Mostly, I'm just glad to have a person I enjoy and admire so deeply to spend my time with.
lyrics
Come into the morning
Meet me at the house
A window off the tree line
A cat to chase the mouse
Your hand upon the rearview
Still you look ahead
And then we're gone
Your hand upon my own hand
Holding on
Tight are the corners
Still you take every one
Gone is the silence
That you break
Laughing at the sun
I'm trying to be more like you
I wake you in the morning
The guilt I cannot take
To stop you in your dreaming
Compel your eyes to wake
The motion is an old one
We walk upon the shore
And then we're gone
The motion is an old one
Holding one
Tight are the corners
Still you take every one
Gone is the silence
That you break
Laughing at the sun
I'm trying to be more like you