The Porcelain Doll on a Grave
The news came out today that Dan Fogelberg died this morning after a long battle with cancer. His album (yes, it was vinyl) “The Innocent Age” was one of my favorite albums growing up. Once my mom left to go to work, I’d spend hours listening to it as loud as I could on her turntable console. I memorized the lines of all of the songs, and I could probably still sing them even though it’s been years since I heard any of them.
The song “In the Passage” was particularly memorable. Every time I see a ring around the moon, I think of the song:
There’s a ring around the moon tonight and a chill in the air
and a fire in the stars that hang so near, so near.
There’s a sound in the wind that blows through the wild mountain holds,
like the sighs of a thousand crying souls, crying souls.There’s a time when the traveler is fated to find
that insight has turned his gaze behind, behind.
And the steps taken yesterday will beckon again
And lead to his weary journey’s end, his journey’s end.
I had no idea what the song was about. I think I was around 10 or 11 years old when I first heard the album. But the melodies and the lyrics were haunting, as was the album cover, which pictured a porcelain doll leaning against a gravestone. Ironically, that song could very well be sung today in remembrance of the singer who sang it. “Oh life at length is frail,” indeed.
The lines of life are never long when seen from end to end
The future’s never coming, and the past has never been.
So, I’m saddened today by this loss. I feel like yet another part of my childhood has died. The memories will remain though, especially whenever there’s a ring around the moon on a clear, cool night. I’ll always picture this chubby little tow-headed kid blasting The Innocent Age and singing along as best as my prepubescent voice would allow. Or I’ll remember clumsily learning how to play “Run for the Roses” on the guitar during my lesson at Pick and Grin Music, so I could impress my dad.
You’ll be missed, Dan, but the impact of your work will remain. Thanks for the memories.
In the fast fading century, as we spin through the years
I pray that our failing vision clears, our vision clears.In the passage from the cradle to the grave, we are born madly dancing.
Rushing headlong through the crashing of the days,
We run on and on without a backwards glance.
We run on and on without a backwards glance.
