Good morning. 🪵🌿☕1 November 2025“Wastin’ away again in Margaritaville, Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame, But I know it’s my own damn fault.” —Jimmy BuffettThis morning, Margaritaville is playing on loop in my head. I’m not sure why—it just happens sometimes. It’s one of the enduring greats of the 20th century, a song that takes me back to the good ole days… or the bad ole days, depending on perspective. And perspective, well—it shifts moment to moment.What’s strange is that I wasn’t thinking of anything in particular. The song just started playing—unprompted—and it’s still going. But only that one part, repeating like a record caught on a scratch. I can almost see a jukebox in an empty diner, flickering to life, selecting a 45-rpm from the carousel, and setting it gently on the platter.“Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end, We’d sing and dance forever and a day…” —Mary HopkinThe record’s changed now. Those Were the Days has taken over, sung by Mary Hopkin in the 1960s. The melody, though, traces back to Russian composer Boris Fomin in the 1920s. Gene Raskin wrote the English lyrics that gave it new life. Just a bit of trivia I felt compelled to include, since the lyrics surfaced.And now, the needle moves again.“A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…” —Don McLeanThat’s an interesting choice. Believe it or not, the first time I heard American Pie by Don McLean, I was boarding a plane in California—headed overseas for the first time. It was December 1971 or January 1972. My second life had just begun.“Bye, bye Miss American Pie, Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry…” —Don McLean#morning #forest #moss #song #music #furn #lichen #memories #photography #photo