Monday, February 8, 2010

Songs on the Radio

Scavenger writes:

For no particular reason, I was thinking about a song I heard once on an independent country station. I usually don't care for much country music (outside of Johnny Cash) or what gets passed of as country, but this was a good song. I'd never heard it before, and I've never heard it since.

There are two parts of the song I remember. It talked about how the singer was going to be walking on the moon tonight, and invited the listener (I believe a romantic interest) to join him is she so wished. He sang, "I'll be walking on the moon tonight, a million (or eight million, not sure which) miles away."

The other part said, "I wish I had a good flat stone, the best that I could find. I'd skip it off the surface of the waters in my mind."

I can't remember anything else. A little of the tune that goes with the lyrics I remember. That's it.

I'll probably never hear the song again. Searching the Internet turns up nothing. But I think of the song every now and again. The lyrics and the sentiment of it are so...poeticly, longingly romantic. It's like some of Bradbury's writing, or that of one of my friends. It taps into a longing of mine, one that started back in high school: the longing to take a slow, quiet walk in the country night with the woman I love, gazing at the stars and the moon and the countryside silvered and given a gentle beauty by the soft light.

I at last have found the woman I love, but we have yet to take that walk. School and work keep her very busy. It will be a good long while yet before we get to amble, unhurried and serene, through the night air with no one around, no particular time we have to be back, no particular destination. But some day, we will.

Just a bit pensive tonight. Y'all take care.