Memories Are Butterflies And MY Mind A Net Catching Them.

I've always enjoyed listening to Kate Bush. I find all of her music sets me off into a dream like state. Sometimes the music is sad and beautiful at the same time. She is most compelling in all the albums she has made.

She seemed to go off of the radar for some time and I forgot about her as I grew older. I remembered being enthralled by her Wuthering Heights song when I first started work back in 1977 and 1978. I bought all of her early albums but then as I got older and married, I took on more responsibilities and forgot about many of the kind and nostalgic things I enjoyed as a youngster.

Now I am 55 and much older than the 16 year old who had just left school and was discovering the finer things of the world. 

Then I stumbled across the 50 Words For Snow Album - a recent work of Kate Bush. I say recent though it is still a few years old now. It is an absolute peach of an album. It is wonderful to listen to when travelling by car in solitude along the motorway, approaching London and the memories of my younger days. 

The music is so haunting. There are so many wonderful memories that I find myself chasing and my mind bursts with ideas. I feel so happy with my 55 years of age and the nostalgia of chasing memories like they are butterflies fluttering about, and my mind is the net catching such exquisite feelings and kind thoughts. Even sad ones of those who are no longer with me. Not necessarily dead but long moved on.

My old friends during my coming of age years when we lived for Friday and Saturday nights. The times of wonderful friends and night life for young people coming of age. Then drifting into relationships of marriage and children. Trails and tribulations all of the way and then one day after all of the hectic years you stop and look back along the road of your journey through life.

Up to now, I feel fortunate and this particular Kate Bush album - 50 Words For Snow - allows me to drift while driving my car back to London to visit my old Dad. The journey takes a couple of hours and I ride the emotions of life going there in wonderful clutches of memory for the place I lived when coming of age and enjoying the world in a new way from the old way I continue to enjoy now.