jdlayman:

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(via stepliana)

I love The New Yorker.

Alison Krauss & Union Station - Take Me For Longing (Live)

Alison Krauss is a musician that I first started listening to in the Fall, and so she has become a sort of late-Summer, early Fall listening choice for me. I’ll probably post more of her later on.

Don’t choose me because I am faithful.
Don’t choose me because I am kind.
If your heart settles on me, I’m for the taking.
Take me for longing or leave me behind.

I would be, for you, a fire in a rainbow,
I would be, for you, an opening door.
Time and hard lessons are one kind of wisdom.
Try to forget them or love me no more.

I’m not asking your heart to believe me.
I’m not asking for promise or pledge.
Whatever the answer, it’s yes, that’s the question.
I am the fool dancing over the edge.

Don’t choose me because I am faithful.
Don’t choose me because I am kind.
If your heart settles on me, I’m for the taking.
Take me for longing or leave me behind.

I have seen at the weather forecast for the next week, and I think that Fall has finally arrived.

If there were power outlets out here, where I’m eating, I would spend a lot more time here. I’m listening to the Weepies and loving life, but I only have 19 minutes left of battery life.

I used to come here ALL THE TIME growing up to grab a chocolate éclair for breakfast. Memories, memories.

UPDATE: Found a power outlet behind some shrubbery. Victory.

Interference - Gold

And you better be you.
Do what you can do,
Walking on moonbeams
And staring out to sea.

‘Cause if your skin was soil,
How long do you think before they’d start digging?
And if your life was gold,
How long do you think you’d stay living?

And I love her so,
I wouldn’t trade her for gold.

What a great fall song.

(via jdlayman)

According to my Last.fm, I’ve been celebrating early!

Limbeck - Silver Things

Tell me where the start is. You can tell me where your heart is. Oh, tell me where your heart is. Tell me where your heart is. Oh, don’t say nothing! It’s not for me, and I’m understanding, so speak up please. I don’t want to be a stranger in the golden state. But it’s just, I didn’t want to travel alone that much. I didn’t want to come back home and be alone.

Also, more Limbeck.

On Sunday morning, I was in my car on the way to church to meet God and Rebecca, although I’ll confess that I may have been a little more excited about seeing the latter—I can meet God anytime, anywhere. It’s Rebecca that I run into scheduling conflicts with.

The sun was out, and as I drove alongside cornfields and a farmhouse or two with the windows down and the cool morning air blowing past, I felt completely filled. I have never longed so much to be back in Ohio as I did in that moment—I was transported back to the idyllic small towns, the beautiful and perfect fall weather that made me feel that I could not be overcome by anyone or anything. I don’t think that I missed Cedarville so much as I missed the sense of infinite possibility borne of a just-right autumn day. Yesterday morning, I recaptured that feeling, if only for a short while, and I could hardly contain my joy. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! pounded in my brain, keeping rhythm with my pulse, and tangled in my knotty throat. My chest heaved involuntarily with the strain of breathing deeply so as to take it all in, and such a powerful want raced in my veins. I wanted it so badly. I wanted that moment to roll me up inside it and bury me and consume me.

The brittleproud leaves insusurrate my soul, whirling on the currents that bear their beloved dead gently but inexorably to the pavement the ditch the plowed-under field, all the while caressing their foreheads and apologizing I’m sorry please I’m so sorry.