This song is has always been lovely. Nice little guitar sounds, Otis’ tender wanting voice, a cheerful little whistle, surf and birds all adrift, images of weightless feet hanging off some dock somewhere. Played on the radio, it probably brings people together in the sounds that it shares– a bit of a novelty of camaraderie. But today, I think it means something else. Maybe it has always meant this thing. I don’t know…. Anyway…. Today it presents itself in a new lonely loveliness. I actually READ the words while the song was playing. This guy, the man singing… He’s escaped…. but to what? He’s left whatever it was he had. He’s left his circumstances. Resting his bones at the end of the land he’s traipsed across. And what is there? Nothing. Loneliness…. But also… the deep vast overcoming lull of the tide and the ocean. Whatever it was that he had, he’s left. And to me it seems, he’s not all that certain that he’s found any answers at this place he’s landed–this dock in the bay at the mouth of a tide. But he’s resting deep. His bones, that had been perhaps crushed within him are now resting and healing…… Thank you Otis. These arms of mine thank you. I share this lonely winsome wondering.