Post 15: Music To Greet The Dawn With

   Today's post is going to be a bit different, mostly because I didn't feel like writing another list. This is actually the result of an idea I've had poking around in my head for a month or so, which was catalyzed in a conversation with my brother earlier today. Instead of my usual format, I'm going to be putting up three different short... writings,  vignettes if you will, about summer, along with a playlist of songs that, in my opinion, capture the mood I'm trying to pin down. I have no idea how this will turn out when it's finished, but I can guarantee this much: I probably won't be sleeping as much as I'd like to this weekend.

Dawn

  Generally speaking, I am not a morning person. Specifically speaking, I'm also not a morning person. In my experience, mornings are frustrating, headache-inducing events that leave me with a sense of lingering disappointment and a desire to go back to bed. Given my preference, my sleeping habits tend to drift slowly forward until I start going to bed as the birds begin suggesting I wake up, and waking up as polite society gets ready for lunch. Frankly, it's not great for my health or wellness, but that's a problem for tomorrow me. He seems much more qualified to handle my problems than me, overall.

  Anyway, one happy side-effect of these sleeping patterns is that since I feel into my current rut, I don't often have lingering contact with the rising sun. Typically I get ready to eat breakfast as the shadows are getting ready to disappear under the light of noon, which means that if I do see a sunset, it's liable to mean that I'm approaching it from wrong direction, giving it a polite nod before I prepare to pass into a near-coma state. I like it this way; the sun seems much more endearing when it's simply nodding a polite "hello, good-bye" than when it's screaming at me to get up, and suggesting that I need to stop sleeping in until 6 am. Admittedly, this may be because I seem to be physically incapable of either happiness or intelligent thought when I wake up before 8, but my assertion still stands.

   Summer sunrises, in particular, have a personality of sorts that makes them endearing when you're watching them after not sleeping for at least the last 16 hours. In winter, the sunrise creeps into your room, shines furtively around your window, and then settles over your shoulders, leaving you hunched over with a unique, bone deep chill that promises nothing more or less than the final, crushing embrace of mortality. Summer sun, however, being a rather thoughtless, carefree sort of sunlight, simply teases you for a half hour or so with the prospect of dawn, and then tosses a coat of buttery yellows and and salmon halftones on everything, then launches straight into the business of daylight.

   The thing that makes the sunrise so lovely is the coolness of it. You know full well that before you can possibly hope to be prepared for it that sun will be directly overhead, scorching you with the kind of punishing heat one would normally associate with a sadistic 10 year old, a magnifying glass and an anthill. But  at dawn, there's a brief window where you can simply see the beauty of the thing without having to worry about the consequences of the daytime. Is it any wonder that it's at its best when you can simply watch it, smile, and run away to a bed that offers another few hours of cool sleep before you have to actually face the day?

Playlist:

The dawn, when seen from behind, is a time for optimism and resignation. It strikes a fine balance between the feeling that everything will eventually be okay, and the acceptance that maybe they won't, and that's all right too.
In my mind, the absolute to ring in the dawn to is New Slang (by  The Shins, of course), which captures the mood of things more perfectly than I suspect I'll ever be able to write down. For me, New Slang is the dawn and vice versa. If I run into one without the other nearby, things feel twisted and off-kilter.
Also worth listening to:
America, by Simon and Garfunkel
El Condor Pasa, also by Simon and Garfunkel (really, most of their stuff is perfect for this kind of mood)
Road Trippin, by the Red Hot Chili Peppers
Manchester, by Kishi Bashi

And lastly, I don't have a bonus song for today, but I will be posting a companion piece to this tomorrow, so whoever's reading this should come back again for seconds. Hopefully they will be delicious.