Edge of the Woods
Howdy Folks! It's been awhile.
Forgive me… I’ve been away for way too long. Life got busy. From August to December 2022 I derived great joy from writing the twenty posts of “Cabot Life,” before going on hiatus. The weekly ritual represented the last gasp of coming-out-of-Covid before launching back full-time into the work of running an arts non-profit (Cabot Arts). Live events - as you know - were the first to exit and the last to reemerge. I was also trying to keep the gigging going (robinsongs.com). It all just got to be too much and something had to give. Believe me, I’ve missed the weekly ritual.
Life is still busy. As it is for most of us. The only reason I’m writing right now is because it’s been a laid back Saturday, I got a decent night’s sleep, and on my walk up Ducharme Rd. I had an epiphany: I needed a new point of view - a new perspective. In order for my Substack writing to evolve and grow I need to go both deeper personally, and broader concept-wise. Hence, “Edge of the Woods.”
The new title, Edge of the Woods, comes from an instrumental tune I wrote while living in Ashfield, MA in the mid-90s. The ramshackle 19th century carriage house I lived in was situated between an overgrown hayfield and the forest. I always loved that spot. I wrote many a song in the big window overlooking the field and took many walks down an old logging path to its terminus at the creek at the bottom of the valley. It was there that I started touring, playing concerts full time coast to coast. It was an exciting time of being perpetually broke and living on the edge - driving cars into the ground, and learning the ropes of how to be a working musician. There were no cell phones in those days (I went through many a Rand McNally). CDs were relatively new and computer connections were dial-up - slower than you can even imagine.
At the edge of the woods is also where Sue and I live now in north-central Vermont. The physical edge is clearly seen through the windows of our 1880s schoolhouse. Pick a direction, any direction, and you can disappear into a green, dense tangle of branches, stone, leaf duff and detritus that indicate a spongy, healthy ecosystem of tree roots and mycorrhiza where rain and snowmelt reliably recharge the aquifer. The sun and moon rise and set from ridge to ridge. Cabot is not on the way to anywhere but, while you’re here, it is the center of the universe.
This Edge of the Woods Substack will be about many things, yet still about (as the subtitle says) “the intersection of music, food, and community in rural Vermont.” But also, perhaps with a bit of global news, philosophy, and musings on the creative process mixed in.
Stay tuned! 🎶
Excited to see you back here. Look forward to your musings.