Drifting Toward Summer
Folk-rock song with a 1960s sound at 112 BPM in a minor key: a jangling twelve-string guitar, bass, drums and an alto-flute solo, with mixed male and female harmonies in call-and-response. Wistful and longing, sung in English, about a restless drifter hitching rides along the coast in search of summer.
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Lyrics
The morning air is tasting like the salt sprayI’m standing where the asphalt meets the sandThumb out to the trucks along the highwayJust a compass in the palm of my handWhite lines are pulling me to westwardWhere the water turns a deeper shade of blueI’m a bird who’s always flying landwardTrying to catch a sky that’s bright and newSearching for the summerBefore the leaves start turning brownSearching for the summerJust a traveler out of townSearching for the summerIn every dusty roadside stopSearching for the summerUntil the winter shadows dropA station wagon stopped for me at middayThe driver had a story he could tellWe traded half a life along the tidewayWhile the cooling engine hummed a quiet spellHe dropped me by a pier in Big Sur countryWhere the cypress trees are leaning in the windI’m feeling light and tall and rather hungryWaiting for the next ride to beginSearching for the summerBefore the leaves start turning brownSearching for the summerJust a traveler out of townSearching for the summerIn every dusty roadside stopSearching for the summerUntil the winter shadows dropMaybe there’s a place where time is frozenAnd the heat waves never shimmer out of sightDown a secret path that I haven’t chosenIn a valley bathed in warm and steady lightSearching for the summerBefore the leaves start turning brownSearching for the summerJust a traveler out of townSearching for the summerIn every dusty roadside stopSearching for the summerUntil the winter shadows drop
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