From the recording Here
What would it have been like to have seen my wife for the first time - as an adult? (We first met when we were 12!)
When she came through the door from out in the rain, and the wind had given a blush to her face.
Covered my mouth as I nearly asked for her name before Ann came in and took her back down to the bay.
Dragging a stick in the sand, she left a trail into the gray. Matching my footsteps in hers, I followed that line as she walked away.
Passing by shells and stones set in the sand I see empty forms left behind by the ones she now holds in her hand.
Her traces had washed away turning me round, round in the rain. Would I have dared to call out if I had only known her name?
Never to find and never to see anymore on that gray, rainy Oregon day when she came through the door.