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Photography and Music

 

What happens when 10 inches of rain falls in one hour? The field where this photo was taken is sandy loam and is situated at the highest point of land in its vicinity. Normally you would never see a single puddle on it but at the peak of this storm it was covered in water with enough running off across the field that it cut a channel. The cornstalks in this photo were from last yearís crop and weíre deposited in these patterns by the running water. The rain and accompanying hail destroyed most of my soybean crop for that year but I like the water issues song that came from it.

Drink of Water

The storm was dark and angry, it stood a mile high
Wind and hail and lightning tore a hole into the sky
And it poured, ten inches in an hour
Iíve never seen so damn much water

It didnít rain a mile away, you couldnít fill a cup
The ground was cracking open and the wells were drying up
And the sun has never felt like this
I need a drink of water

There are rice fields in the desert, and irrigation ponds
The waterís pumped to people and the waterís pumped to lawns
And at the border thereís a trickle, in the Rio Grande
Sure could use a drink of water

Instrumental

Once this world was full of forests, the forests full of streams
Now clear cuts and oil use are driving our weather to extremes
And Iím afraid, for the first time in my life
I really need a drink of water.

The earth is getting hotter, thereís a lot at stake
Our descendants are dependent on decisions that we make
It starts with me it starts with you
We all need a drink of water

 

Culloden

The mist is marching down the glen from the highlands, this morning
Canít see inches from my eyes
The dew is hung on ancient trees like a warning
blue peaks lie shrouded in the skies
They say to sit until it lifts, move ahead and you might risk
a fall... but I know these hills

Sun dappled high mountain gleams, woven with streams
each ribbon has wandered and flown, carved into stone

The rolling moors and loch and stone have a cool clear beauty
giant trees are standing fast
anchored firm through centuries like a sense of duty
That will not yield to the last
Draw us into two straight lines of what is yours and what is mine...
and weíll fight for a way of life.

Deep forest blankets of green spun in a dream
Faint echoes pipe in the dawn, where have you gone?

Five thousand men are on their feet
to face their foe through cold and sleet
The heather waves in wind and rain
trampled in to grow again
The earth is soft
the earth is soft the earth is warm
the earth is soft the earth is warm as blood
the earth is soft the earth is warm as our blood


 
 

Photos by Lorie Dillard

 

Lay Your Fences Down



Not so very long ago it used to really snow Ďround here
Youíd park your car until the spring and wait for it to clear
Because the roads were drifted in and the banks would climb
You could take the phone line in your teeth if you were so inclined


Theyíd pull the steeples from the posts and lay the fences down
Hook the horses to the sleigh and head it into town
Breaking trail across the fields - working like a charm
Gliding through the neighbours place, goiní farm to farm


When my dad was just a kid he worked like any man
One day he drove the team to town and was heading home again
It was clear and cold the stars were out, the snow was fast and deep
Heíd made it half way up Kiddís hill, when he fell asleep

...and the horses took him home

The years have slipped by since those days of harnesses and teams
The horses that have worked these farms have faded into dreams
But take some time to think of them, there are lessons to be found
Just trust a little in the ride and lay your fences down
Trust a little in the ride...and lay your fences down
 

Underneath the Snow

This ground is so damned hard
Youíd think that I would know
That the frost was creepiní in
Underneath the snow

It hardly rained all summer
In the fall it wouldnít stop
Couldnít get the plowing done
I barely got the crop

The tractorís pulled up in the shed
The last place that I drove
And I am stretched out on the couch
Behind the kitchen stove
What else should I do?

The harvest left this farm a mess
A rut in every row
But itís smoother than a wedding dress
Underneath the snow

Spring will be here soon enough
When winter sets her free
Another year, another crop
Another pot of tea

In the shadow of the fencerow
Where the snow has drifted through
The wind has carved an ocean
In a dozen shades of blue
What else should it do?

Every season has its turn
Thatís just the way it goes
And not everything will be coming up
From underneath the snow
 

Photo by Mom

One more Round

I pull up to the wheat field, itís harvest time once more
Whatís more bountiful than harvest songs, Iíve heard Ďem all before
But natures voice and engine noise, are spinning out the sound
And I add my voice to the din, one more round

There are patches on the patches of this combine that I drive
Itís duct taping and curses that are keeping it alive
I swear that Iíll be sitting on it, until it rusts into the ground
I hope that it can make it for, one more round

If Iíve ever been more itchy, Iím not sure how Iíd tell
ĎCause the dust behind that combineís blowiní straight outta hell
And harvest songs canít tell you how it feels on your neck
I guess Iím here to tell ya that it feels like heck

Some men dream of wealth or fame, some dream of Paris France
Some men dream of dancing gals with frilly underpants
Iím dreaming of the shower, Iíll just stand there Ďtill I drown
I think that I can stand it for, one more round

The markets are diving down again, itís really quite insane
How my life follows the day traderís and their computer games
And other folks are making more because the price is down
And toasting their good fortunes with, one more round

Bridge
Iím sitting out here thinking Ďbout what keeps me on this mud
Is my life what I imagine it, or is it in my blood

ĎCause my father farmed before I did, his father too
And his, and his and his and his, I guess itís what we do
It isnít such a simple thing to go moving into town
Iíll be the last man in my line, one more round

Each round ends where it started in this combine that I drive
Like the cycles of the seasons, and the weather and our lives
Generations spinning down through time without a sound
Glad that you could join me for, one more, one more round

 


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