In the Dawn

Billy sat and looked out over the field in front of his porch; he had a small cabin, on 50 acres in the hills between Mendocino and Willits.

It was above, and really a bit beyond the coastal fog which occurred on most mornings, but this morning there was none. He could see over a couple of ridges, and all the way to the ocean, which crested blue and white in the dawn.

He could look down over the field starting to blossom with spring, over the pine and redwood trees, over, and over until the trees turned into that California coastline green, of what was native here.

He was home.

It was dawn. He hadn’t slept much; his plane had arrived around midnight into San Francisco from Cincinnati. He had retrieved his truck from the long term parking and had made the 4 hour drive from there.

A six week tour, from Boston, New Orleans, Denver, Seattle, San
Diego, San Francisco, Fresno, Topeka, Wichita, Las Vegas, Portland, New York. Six weeks, all over the damn place, believing this room full of people he would never know, were his friends. Making them believe it. They were, really, but you had to get so personal with strangers you forgot what personal really was. You touched lives, and they touched yours, and the songs gained new life. The life you all, all of you and them, breathed into them. And new songs got written.

It had been a six week tour, and he had gotten home just before dawn. Now he was sitting watching a new day arrive, and he was home.

He was tired, and the dawn was glorious.

There was a hawk being chased by five or six sparrows. He guessed that old boy just had wandered into the wrong neighborhood.

He said to himself: “yeah buddy”.

He looked out at the garden, and the children’s toys, he took a sip of the Guinness he had picked up at the all night, and he smiled.

His Guinevere slept inside, her name was Susana, he called her Missy, and he loved her, and Sarah, and Sam, and they were his whole world, along with the rooms full of strangers, and the dreams and the dramas that made the songs, and the whole thing worked.

And wasn’t that something, and it was dawn, and he was home.

He would unload the truck when he woke up.

Leave a Comment

You can use these HTML tags:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>