“Somewhere In-Between” – Another Song From My Fossicking Holiday

Te Waewae Bay, and cloud bank hiding the mountains of eastern Fiordland.

The waves and the stones, beyond the Waimeamea Lagoon.

Wave scoured stone banks, Te Waewae Bay coast.

Three paradise shelducks over the Waimeamea Lagoon.

I’ve been playing this song a lot during my fossicking sojourn in Southland. I think it cropped up in a Spotify playlist, and it appealed to me immediately. I like the way the music has a quiet travelling energy to it – so it plays well in the car when I drive out to a beach, a time somewhere in-between leaving and arriving. There is also a “solitary man” feel to it, a dose of wistful loneliness, which reflects my current life, somewhere in-between being at home and being back home again. The scenes in the song’s “official video” (below) present a man immersed in an overwhelming natural environment. That’s familiar to me – fossicking on a beach between the powerful waves and the high cliffs, with the intermittent concussion of the booming breakers roaring across banks of stones, the fossicker encountering the rawness of the sun and wind and rain, with the thin sharp cries of seabirds somewhere in the distance. The beautiful and the vast. Somewhere in-between the horizon and the beach beneath my feet. I don’t know what most of the lines of the song mean, it doesn’t really matter. It’s how it feels.

“San Luis”
by Gregory Alan Isakov

Weightlessness, no gravity
Were we somewhere in-between?
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s eye view of San Luis

Oh, highway boys all sleeping in
With their dirty mouths and broken strings
Oh, their eyes are shining like the sea
For you, the queen of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s eye view of San Luis

Cutting through the avenues
I’d always find my way to you
Beside the hook, the hammer lies
Fumbling round in the smoke
Spending time chasing ghosts
Hold me down, hold me down, child
Hold me down, hold me down, child

California called you queen
With your golden hair and magazine
Were you somewhere in-between?
Fast asleep, a flying dream
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s eye view of San Luis
I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me
A bird’s eye view of San Luis…

Author: tumblestoneblog

Retired Academic, male, living in the New Zealand countryside near Whanganui with his wife as well as Jasper the dog, Fluffy the cat, Dancer and Penny, the horses, and a shed half-full of stones. Email john.tumblestone@gmail.com. View all posts by tumblestoneblog