Down Midnight Pass

If you've spent any time on Siesta Key you know Midnight Pass Road. It runs the length of the Key, past the little shops and the beach access signs, and it has a way of feeling like the end of something even in broad daylight.

That's the road in "Gone Coastal." Somebody wakes up to a sticky note and half a pot of cold brew. She's gone, the Jeep is gone, and the only thing left is a smiley face and a decision. He does what a lot of us would do. He goes after her, checking the usual spots on the way down the Key, with the village in the mirror.

I'll admit I had fun with the geography. It's a song that only works if you know the stops, and I like that. The map of a small place is a kind of poetry on its own.

But the song isn't really about the road. It's about the moment he figures out that he treated a good thing like it was a sure thing. The tide always comes back, so you stop paying attention. Then one day it doesn't, quite, or not the same.

It's track six on You Can't Frame a Summer. Play it with the windows down.