Dirty Projectors

I had heard a little of the new Dirty Projectors album and then on some rare down time late one afternoon I pushed a kayak into the lake and paddled around and listened through the ipod and noticed birds and flowers along the banks and the reflections of everything making the trees and sky more beautiful  or maybe just further exposing them and the movement of the boat beneath me, my arms pulling and pushing simultaneously, the lakewater dripping down, back and forth paddling and thinking of paddling, how to pull up to get a better look at a bank, how to skirt the dock and throw my shirt and shoes there, all of this movement and water combined rhythmically, richly, alchemically with the wandering songs, the strings and voices and weeping, sweeping melodies, and I was alone, and the device slipped from my lap and dipped into the wet kayak seat where lake water came up freely through hole designed for some purpose, and the music stuttered and stopped and now it won’t turn on, probably never again and I was happy.