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whimsical weather

by cirrus bay

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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of The Art of Vanishing, Places Unseen, The Search For Joy, and whimsical weather. , and , .

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1.
Morning creeps its way in concentric circles. Ivied pillars stand, unaware of seasons' ring-like shape. And forgotten fields reappear tomorrow. The path seems straight, but winds in circles upon circles. Though we may not discern, yesterday will return to guide us. And when the wind brings the storm, cooling the warm of summer, will I still be here? Winds of a distant day so far away. Things are not always what they seem to blind eyes. The forest is a glade and the man may be a little child. Though we may not discern, yesterday will return to find us.
2.
boundaries 10:24
THE COMPOSER: A whole world is out there, within me, I feel it. I can't describe it, except to conceal it. Wrapping this burning, in songs of yearning. THE RECIPIENT: So absurd, messages in melodies, not words. Heavy notes fall to the ground unheard. I pick them up, struggling, I haul them to the ledge, past the hedge and to the world's edge. THE COMPOSER: I heed the voice that sings within, I have no choice. My sense of reality, far from what this world can see and touch. Keep the summer door ajar, bringing close your world, so far before. THE DREAMER: Taking your hand by the water, all the world is left far behind as we're stepping someplace new. Picking pockets of the past, taking the spoils into summer. Moving through the shimmering of now. And the world we make is real somehow. THE COMPOSER: You swim in safety, I stand at the boundary, hoping to free you, straining to see you. A difficult entrance, through doors of indifference.
3.
wanderlust 08:44
Stepping through the gate, she takes a breath and gets her bearings, until wanderlust sets in. And the morning sun beckons her into the hillside, wind and sun upon her skin. Are you there? She calls into the air, standing there so fair, like springtime, when before her eyes, he steps into her gaze. Walking hand in hand, they come across an empty clearing, somplace they've not seen before. And they see a shimmering of light, explodes across their sight. In her daze, she turns her gaze to a butterfly. For a moment she feels very strange. Then in time she returns to her home and to her dreaming. Cirrus begin to form. And her thoughts, reality must claim, though some dreams remain in hiding, ready to reach out through pillowed walls, where a sense of loss remains.
4.
I woke up this morning pleased to feel so found. Jumping these rocks and out of the reach of sound. Those leaves on that hill dance freely as they please. Riding the music in harmony with the breeze. One day let's exchange our peace of mind. Give away and unwind. Floating pillows. This balloon we caught before it flew away. Finally saying all that we want to say. Let's brush away all that we can't taste. Hidden lives make no haste. Clouds explode and I'll keep jumping rocks. Not held back by locks. So paint how you feel and see if the leaves will dance, then jump in the painting and look for your first romance. It's a beautiful new ante meridiam.
5.
6.
Memories lie sprawled out, fading photographs. You can feel the wind run wild. Almost unaware of this catalogue of dreams, when distant waters gleam. Another one to the fore, surfacing through this open door. So much is concealed, arrows strike the shield, but I'll never know, as me and the wind run wild. So you and I will never know, I'll be like the silent snow, and not look on in anguish at the lives of all, when still the wind runs wild. And all the hurt was it really real, trapped in a place I can hardly feel. If the summer starts to feel a little cold again, I'll never know of where I never go, no, layers below, as me and the wind run wild.
7.
Curtains part to a scene of rivers winding through a garden fair, Here a girl learned to steal. Repercussions shattered silent air. Imperfection passed along. Stark illusions of security. From the seeds of selfishness, hatred, pain and prejudice grew free. What one says and what another hears, an ocean in between. If we could understand. His offer was eternal life. Earth forever free, forever young. Raised my voice and called here am I, here am I. (send me...) But momentary pleasure, all they seem to treasure. She moves across cobbled streets. Silently she makes her presence known. Nothing stagnant, nothing still. At her touch, the seeds become full grown. In passing, who knew that she could fly? No man is her king. Leaves trails and flutters by... Momentary pleasure, all they seem to treasure. But whimsical weather takes them all together.

about

whimsical weather will have 7 tracks, working on uploading all of them to bandcamp

credits

released May 22, 2012

sharra acle - vocals (lead in 1,2,4 & 6)
anisha gillham - vocals (lead in 1,2,3 & 7)
bill gillham - guitars, keyboards and mandolin
mark blasco - drums, bass guitar
tom prather - engineer, drums in 'wanderlust'

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cirrus bay Buckley, Washington

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