the division bell

According to my definition of what constitutes a day - from good morning to goodnight, regardless of such mere things as dates and times - it's Day 29, the second-to-last day of my 30 Day Song Challenge undertaking. The theme for this day is "a song from your childhood".

As soon as I saw this position on the 30 Day Song Challenge list, I knew it would be an opportunity to share with you not just a song link, but something much more - a small part of me, a memory and a tale, an example of how music is an integral part of my life.

So, let me tell you a story.

It was a warm summer evening. My parents and my grandmother were packing for a trip to my grandmother's cottage in a distant village by the name of Pogorzelec. Our house had a humongous satellite dish and assorted TV equipment. In a spare moment, my father was scanning the horizon with said dish, hopping between TV satellites and looking for interesting transmissions. Eventually he found a very curious transmission, indeed - a live stream from a concert. He thought it was merely a fragment, but it was in fact the whole thing.
It was The Division Bell Tour.
My much younger self was there to see it - and reportedly, it caught my full and undivided attention. Yes, indeed - the attention of a normally fairly spastic kid, completely centered on the lights and the music. I sat down cross-legged, resting my head on my fists, thoroughly entranced.
My parents were quite amazed by the intensity of my focus. They didn't wish to interrupt me. In the end, they chose to not go and instead watched the concert with me, much to their pleasure.


Pink Floyd's music was always there when I was young. My parents listened to them frequently, inbetween classical music and other rock artists from the same generation as Pink Floyd. Even now, a few of my favourite bands cite Pink Floyd among their inspirations and indeed the music I listen to is much in a similar trend, filled with melody, spacious, entrancing, rich and dripping with sound.
I still recall those long roads we've traveled with my family, playing music on the car audio. I would occasionally have a wish in regards to music - in particular, I remember frequent requests of mine for a certain CD which I called the mottled or spotted CD ("plamiasta płyta" was the exact Polish phrasing).
High Hopes stood out in my mind, a song about nostalgia and the passing of time, as touching and powerful now as ever - and every time I hear these buzzing flies and that tolling of iron bells, my mind's eye never fails to summon an image of those warm sunny days spent travelling with my family. Trees, water... that rich, warm, yellow light...
The grass was indeed greener and the light was brighter, then.