All man­ner of con­texts have been pre­sented for my acquain­tance with Dark — solo hikes, late night strolls home from new love or a heavy buzz, lazy snow­storm morn­ings with the sound (and blue strobe) of plows thun­der­ing by, and the long black that only the bot­tom of the Earth can provide.

You could say we’re on friendly terms, Dark and I. We have pact of ease that allows for an encom­pass­ing, com­fort­ing cocoon to enve­lope thought. There is a warmth that car­ries res­o­lu­tions for the present and the sub­tle travel part­ner of good nostalgia.

Dri­ving north tonight, a short hop along the front range on 93, I saw only moon­lit moun­tain sides and the light-shells of small cars miles ahead. Each of us trav­el­ing along, iso­lated, hold­ing our own fort in the world around us. Dark allows that pri­vacy — the rar­ity of men­tal silence in the mod­ern world.

It could be that recent change (small pota­toes — a move an hour north) left Dark in the pas­sen­ger seat, could be that I finally found some clear think­ing. In the end, the drive pulled past and present together, offered up new thoughts on love, on old friends, and offered a few new per­spec­tives for my sec­ond try at the non-seasonal world.

In a moment of serendip­ity, the ran­dom tracks play­ing across my stereo blended all of it together seamlessly.

For shar­ing pur­poses (best rounded out with a moon­lit drive away from city lights, a life­time behind you and a life­time ahead):

Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago — Soul Coughing

No Regrets — Aesop Rock

Just Dropped In — Kenny Rogers

Yuma, AZ — Damien Jurado

Gone For Good — The Shins

The Mast — Feist

Ball and Chain — Social Distortion

Field Below — Regina Spektor

Done Got Old — Heart­less Bastards

Paris 2004 — Peter, Bjorn, and John

From a Pay­phone in the Rain — Teague Alexy with the Feelin Band

Air­line to Heaven — Wilco

Is This It — The Strokes

Par­adise Lost — Storyhill