Songs recorded on the wane of winter, during the rise and fall of intimacy, and polished over the onset of the warmest fall feelings of fuzz. The songs themselves vary in age, some going back as far as 2004, when their author was 15 years old. Some were inventions of the moment or complete transformations from their origin to an unrecognizable melody and pattern of much grander realization. It was a collection of tired outbursts, relieved silent victories, disorganized frustrations, and facepalmed worries. An accumulation of sighs.