Sometimes I wonder how our ancestors envisioned their own lives before the invention of film. I know that, for me, reflection is a cinematic occurrence. Here I am, parked on the soft shoulder of Interstate 5, southbound, accompanied only by the ghostly screams of passing big-rigs to my left and an abandoned olive orchard to my right. That, and a ziplock bag of Hershey’s kisses sitting atop an unopened letter on the passenger seat. For the past 20 miles or so I’ve been at a steady 75, both hands loosely gripping the steering wheel. My car is anything but silent and yet all I consciously hear is silence as I gaze out at the passing landscape, the subsidized farms, the soft afternoon light.
Silence and the cinematic soundtrack to the moment: “Ballad for the Unborn” by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio.
Lining both sides of the freeway, miniature sunflowers dance free-spiritedly to the song. Or perhaps they are dancing to their own. And for the past 20 miles I’ve been incessantly reminded of the last scene of Adaptation – the time-lapse shot of the dancing flowers somewhere in crowded Los Angeles – and, not knowing what to feel myself, I’ve adopted the feelings that overtook me when that movie came to a close.
A tinge of sadness, a drop of regret, and an irrepressible surge of hope. But then, circling my car to squat down and photograph the swaying flowers, I realized it wasn’t a well-crafted Hollywood film that inspired these feelings. They are my own. From my life. And from those I’ve let into it. And for that I am grateful.
Download of the day: “Ballad for the Unborn” by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio (right click, save as)
You’re such a melancholy soul, Osito. And while most people wouldn’t consider me melancholy, a glance at any of my iPods (yes, there is now a third – sad, eh?) would tell you what a soft spot I have for slow, melancholy music.
So now I’m listening to “Ballad for the Unborn”, which doesn’t go badly at all with the scent of slightly fermenting mangoes wafting through the window on the chilly evening air.
Oso, I have had such a busy day. I just sat down at my computer to put in a few more hours of work. I decided to check out bloglines first before I got busy and I stumbled upon this post. As I listened to this song I immediately forgot the craziness of the day and a great sense of calm just came over me. Thank you for sharing – I really needed it!
btw…I hear that you are close to Nebur and I now. Maybe on one of our weekend trips we will check you out!
gorgeous picture.
beautiful words.
great song.
thank you for sharing.
Beautiful music. It has that “I’m alone, yet I don’t feel lonely” feel.
Wherever you are, take care… brother bear. 😛
//Pelón pelacas 4 life
There’s something about highway driving and melancholy that seems to be inseparable to me. Even short drives sometimes bring surges of sadness. Maybe that’s a curse of the nomadic–everywhere feels like home, yet nowhere really is, so no matter where you’re going you have that leaving home/going home sensation+music+wonder and excitement. It’s emotional overload sometimes.
Saludos y un abrazo, homes.
Woah! I guess I’m accustomed to viewing awesome pictures (damn you, Flickr)… Kudos on the patience, and the ‘mad photographer skillz’.
Regarding music… I’ve been playing a joke to some of my friends by telling them “que estoy saliendo del closet metálico”. They first are first shocked… 😯 then they realize I’m kidding and laugh in an awkward way… 😆
A friend of mine told me I should listen to Norah Jones, Counting Crows, Barenaked Ladies,… and other artists. I’m pretty sure I should be listening to your last.fm station.