16 September 2013

Bird of the Summer

Day 5: Inspired by your favourite song – Bird of the Summer by A Fine Frenzy.

We met at the end of the summer actually, but it was still warm enough to wear shorts and cropped tops. I still think of you every time I hear this song, but it’s not really about you. I just like the tune. I like the sound of Alison’s voice, and the melody, and I don’t care that you told me it was ‘gay.' Well, you were right – it makes me very happy. 

Once we were sat in Pret and it came on while we were eating our sandwiches and I couldn’t quite believe it. 
“This is my favourite song,” I said.
You laughed. I continued to eat my sandwich and sang along in my head.

A couple of months later I left our flat to walk to work. It was August but it was windy and I wore a black jacket because it was cold and everyone was complaining about British summers these days but it was such a boring thing to talk about. Anyway, this song came on my iPod as I walked the ten minutes to the café where I served sloppy meals to customers. I admired the flowers that had been arranged into the Union Jack flag on the side of the wide road and the tall fat trees lining the pavement. It was the year we had the Olympics in London and the Queen's diamond jubilee. There were leaves everywhere and the wind whipped my ponytail into my face as Alison sang to me. It made the walk to work enjoyable - the thought of six hours not at home with you more bearable.  When I think about it now, I shouldn’t have had to keep these thoughts and moments and appreciations of the beauty of the world, and of you, to myself.

I am one of those annoying people who prefer Autumn and Winter to Summer. I love the start of school, new uniform, new stationery, new books and diaries and plans and lists and goals, and the countdown to Christmas. I love the smell of Autumn. The crispy brown leaves scuttling along the ground in the wind, the firework display and us laughing at people taking photographs. The colours. Burgundy and bottle green and black boots. Hot water bottles and hot chocolates. The Christmas market in town and spending money just because we could.

You might be gone but I still have this song, and these memories of a town and a time that we shared. And Autumn and Winter will remain my favourite seasons, and this song will continue to mark the start and the end of something – I’m not sure what – but it will, for me, forever, probably.

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