I reckon this is as big an image that I can safely fit in this column. And yes it is a crane fly drying off in the cool November morning sun. The music feels a little dew drenched, and warmed by Pete Marsh's bass. I expect he has forgotten his role in this one. The rest is me with a half broken guitar and a lot of overlaid organ. It believe it has the kind of grandeur I seek daily for myself.