Listen on
Every now and then along the Pacific coast, you run into days like this: a cold fog rolls in before you realize it, slowly swallowing the ocean, the cliffs, and the highway into a wall of white mist. The air turns damp, cold, and salty, leaving only the dull roar of waves breaking far off in the distance. Your view pulls in close, and everything around you becomes surprisingly quiet—a reassuring stillness where you feel completely undisturbed.
This track was just about capturing that feeling. An acoustic guitar wanders slowly through open chords, letting the ringing open strings hang in the air a bit longer. Underneath is only a soft layer of ambient sound, drifting slowly like the fog to support the guitar. I didn’t try to clean up the quiet scrape of fingers against the strings, leaving a bit of that raw, natural grit in place.
It isn’t highbrow meditation music, and it doesn’t tell a complicated story. It’s more like pulling off to the side of the road in the chill, zipping up your jacket, and watching the fog slowly swallow the coastline while the surf breaks against the rocks.
And just sitting there for a while.