spoon 1.3

Even though most of the people in her hometown did just enough to get by comfortably, Spoon knew her parents were a bit different, avant-garde.  After all, they would not have so easily let her take off on this journey had they not been somewhat forward thinking. Most other parents, she knew, would not have let a 17-year old girl off to travel.

One of the things she knew she was going to miss about leaving home was the music.  Her father was an avid collector of orchestral compositions and her musically-inclined mother relished singing and playing several musical instruments whenever she could.  Music was a kind of bond between them, which, she noticed, was unusual because they were not professional musicians nor did this type of bond exist with the parents of her friends.

It’s not that music was a focal point or that it was always playing, but when it was, it seemed to emanate throughout the home at the right time.  She liked that she didn’t need to decide what to play because whatever was playing seemed to fit the mood, or, she thought, maybe the mood subtly adjusted to the music.

The odd thing, she found out, was that her father and mother started liking music for different reasons, long before they knew each other.  Her mother liked the sensation music brought internally, “lifting the soul,” she said, whereas he liked the rhythm and was attracted to music’s organization, cadence, and measure.

Music wasn’t a must.  She was content with the sounds of her surroundings.  But while she was traveling on the bus, Spoon listened to music with her headphones.  During the downtime, she liked feeling the connection to her parents while considering how they both appreciated music for varying reasons.

Spoon wasn’t, she felt, overly sentimental.  When she did listen to music, it was to get lost in thought.  One of the songs in her library was In Aranjuez With Your Love.  Her mother told her that when she was a baby she would smile in contentment whenever the song was playing, which was quite coincidental since Aranjuez is the name of the neighborhood where they live.  Spoon had never been in love, and right now she was imagining the meaning behind its lyrics while listening to this instrumental version as the bus rolled into her next stop.

In Aranjuez With Your Love

Aranjuez,
a place of dreams and love.
Where a rumor of crystal
fountains in the garden
seems to whisper to the roses.

Aranjuez,
today the dry leaves without color
Which are swept by the wind
Are just reminders of the romance
we once started
And that we’ve forsaken
without reason.

Maybe this love is hidden
in one sunset
In the breeze or in a flower
Waiting for your return.

Aranjuez,
today the dry leaves without color
Which are swept by the wind
Are just reminders of the romance
we once started
And that we’ve forsaken
without reason.

In Aranjuez, my love

tbc