29 SONGS IN 29 DAYS

In February 2024, my partner Eric Parson, a composer and nature documentarian, embarked on a song-a-day-for-a-month challenge. I joined the project as lyricist and developmental editor. Each song—song scrap, really—was written, recorded, and edited in less than a day. The incessant deadlines demanded that we do away with any attempt at perfection. Instead, we hurried headlong toward stories that felt urgent, finding inspiration in the landscapes and life forms of Central California. As a collection, the songs rage and whimper and mourn this moment of climate crisis. Still, there’s hope and humor, too, like the song sung from the perspective of an indignant banana slug who scolds hikers for their careless strides.

The music will be developed further. The lyrics will be revised.

Still, I’m mighty proud of these first drafts. Here are a few of my favorites…

Kingfisher’s on the line.

The news ain’t so good.

The fish haven’t been biting,

The river’s running low.

—

Kingfisher’s on the line.

He says it’s time to go.

He heard there might be

Better banks far across the bay .

—

Kingfisher’s on the wing,

A blur of blue and white,

Gone fishin’ on some sunnier shore,

Gone, gone for good.

Don’t dare try

That’s my detritus. 

Decomposition is the grand tradition 

Of proud terrestrial slugs like me. 

Can’t you see I’m on a mission?

Lemon yellow expedition.

Can’t you see? 

So watch your step.

Watch your step.

Clementine sky,

over beast of burden,

On a barren trail

Too few prospects left.

—

The weight of the world 

Grows so heavy

Too much to bear and

Summer heads for the hills.

—

The nights get cold and

Oh so lonesome 

Though coyotes sing

The sweetest lullabies.

—

The last of her line

On a fool’s errand

She winters all alone

In a land that once held gold.