The corner by the window

Everybody has one table. Mine is by a window where the ocean meets the sky, and I've been going back to it for years without quite noticing how often.

"Right Here In This Light" is a song about that corner. There's a cold drink sweating circles on a weathered piece of wood, the same old song coming out of the speakers, and the same breeze drifting past. Nothing happens. That's the whole point of it.

I wrote it after a long afternoon when I realized the years had stacked up like waves rolling in and fading out, and somehow they all felt close at once. You don't know you're in a good moment until it's already behind you. That line came first, and the rest of the song grew around it.

I think most of us are better at remembering good days than noticing them. So this week, if you've got a corner of your own, a chair, a porch step, a spot on the sand, go sit in it for a minute on purpose. Don't take a picture. Just notice what the light is doing, and let it count.