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October 1997
On a recent drive from Fredonia to the Adirondacks, I was re-acquainted with the intoxicating power of autumn in the mountains. Driving between Old Forge and Indian Lake with the car window open produced the following song. (Until you hear the tune in concert or on an album, you're welcome to chant it or sing it to whatever tune you'd like.) The last three syllables of the first line of each verse are sung three times and the last line is sung twice.
A DRINK OF AUTUMN
A flock of geese is flying south.
A whispered wish escapes my mouth.
My heart is flying with them.
While leaves turn yellow, red, and gold,
Gather firewood for the cold,
And take a drink of autumn.
The leaves return to earth below
And decompose so more can grow.
Smell the season turning.
The pine are guardians of the green.
They keep a promise in between,
Till winter turns to springtime.
The crops are in, the barn is full.
The cows are fat, thick is the wool.
Each day is for thanks giving.
We're in the balance: dark and light.
The time for taking stock is right,
And putting things in order.
A flock of geese is flying south.
A whispered wish escapes my mouth.
My heart is flying with them.
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