*Paradise*

I'm having a bit of a blast from the past right now. My old Caribbean Geography prof, Bill Found, is here in my World Geography class guest-lecturing on the Caribbean as a region. I really enjoy him, despite some of my complaints about last year's course, and after class I'm going to talk to him about the 4000 level Caribbean geog class he teaches now.
I've been thinking a lot about my course selection for next year; I only need 21 more credits in my BA to graduate, and 9 in my BEd...that's really not very much. That's one year of study. I need 2 4000 level Englishes, 1 4000 level free course, and one any-level half course. In Ed I need my Teaching Geography in the I/S division and another Ed elective, hopefully Inclusive Education or Education and Human Rights. When I put those numbers into perspective, I can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel; I can see the end of my university career.
I have mixed feelings about graduating; I'm intensely excited to be done with university, but at the same time my sense of trepidation is almost overwhelming. When I graduate I have to go out into the real world; I have to apply for jobs and interview and face more setbacks than successes. I can hope and wish all I want that this process goes smoothly, but I know that smooth is probably not what I'm going to get.
I was just on my friend Valerie's Flickr site checking out her very excellent pictures, and I noticed that she had found an album by a duo called Iron and Wine; these artists have a folksy, hauntingly sweet sound, and they sing one song in particular that I'm fascinated by because the same song is also covered by a techno-rock-indie band called The Postal Service. The song is called "Such Great Heights" and I love both versions; however, if I had to choose a favourite, I would choose Iron and Wine's version. The lyrics go something like this:

I am thinking it's a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and
When we kiss they're perfectly aligned

And I have to speculate
That God himself did make us into
Corresponding shapes like puzzles pieces
From the clay

True, it may seem like a stretch
But it's thoughts like this
That catch my troubled head
When you're away, when I am missing you to death

When you were out there on the road
For several weeks of shows
And when you scan the radio
I hope this song will guide you home

They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll stay

I've tried my best to leave
This all on your machine
But the persistent beat
Sounded thin upon listening

That frankly will not fly
You will hear the shrillest highs
And lowest lows with the windows down
When this is guiding you home

They will see us waving from such great heights
"Come down now," they'll say
But everything looks perfect from far away
"Come down now," but we'll say...

Think of soft acoustic guitar and a man's voice, gentle and breathy and soothing. That's why I love this song. Paradise.

-Laur