My family and I decided to take a little trip to Maine for the summer, but all it has done is rain, rain, and rain. Sure I know this is RainStation.com – so in one way or another, I guess I could be to blame for all this. All I know is if you are here on the east coast this summer of 2009, it might be time to start building an arc.
What to do after weeks of gloom? Write a song. It’s not a happy song, but what can I do? There might be some hope in there somewhere, but from where I sit, I’ve yet to hear it. Maybe time will show me something different. I suppose if I share the song with you all, and someone, anyone likes it, well, that is a kind of hope, now isn’t it?
I grew up here on this lake I am now visiting. My childhood hopes and dreams were all rooted here. Whatever I do, and whatever I become, this place is my beginning. I always pine away when I am not here for some part of the year. I have to admit I always imagine it just a tad bit different from when I actually visit. I forget the little cabin is next to archaic, needs water to be carried up a steep hill when the pump is not working. I collect wood to heat our bodies when it gets cold. When the rain comes there is little to do but sit here and watch the rain on the lake, listen to the loons, and hope for a sunny day to swim, kayak, hike, and explore. My wife and daughter love it here, but this summer has been a challenge. We have got a little cabin fevered, and the close quarters has gotten on our nerves a bit. We are driving one another crazy to put it mildly. The four year old jumps from chair to chair, shooting her bow and arrow where ever it may land, and me, I am not sure where I brought my family this year.
This song is the result of us talking a bit too much as of late. There are times silence is golden. Even the most intimate of people should not know too much about one another. Mystery can be a good thing, and truth can at times hurt more than not knowing.