This album reminds me of summer when I was younger. Before we got our conservatory, the patio doors in the living room led straight out into the garden. The sun would shine into the room and make the grey carpet warm by the door. Dad would put music on the stereo in the living room and open the patio doors and the music would float into the garden, like a scent. One of the albums he played a lot in summer was ‘Moon Safari’ by AIR. He probably didn’t play it as often as I think he did. In my head, it played all summer. But at that point I didn’t really know what it was, and didn’t think to ask. It was just music that Dad put on. The song ‘Ce matin là’ does something very particular to me.
I come downstairs. Mum and Sarah are in the kitchen getting things ready for a barbeque. I go into the living room and ‘Ce matin là’ is playing loudly. I can smell the barbeque charcoal. I go out into the garden and step onto the patio with bare feet. The tiles are hot, and bright. Dad’s wearing his maroon hat that looks better on me. He says ‘hi sweetheart’ and tells me not to come too close to the barbeque because it’s very hot. ‘Ce matin là’ continues to play. I sit on the bench on the patio and let it take me somewhere different.
It makes me think of droplets of water in a fountain catching the sunlight. Cycling along a path in a park. A white bandstand. Very green grass. The smell of the sun on my arm. Accidentally looking at the sun a little too long and seeing bright white flashes with every blink. Closing my eyes and feeling completely lost . Succumbing to the present and, just for a moment, forgetting that the past or the future even exist. Succumbing wholly to the present moment.
It sets me free.