The Spur

I want to explain these songs / I want to leave them unexplained. We’ve all been working with a lot of silence. I hide from the world / Because I don’t know where I end. Our bodies were tired from touring. Remembering driving across the midwestern plains at dusk, against the pale yellow sky seeing the black outline of the horizon with the occasional silhouette of a little farmstead, a corn crib or windmill, beyond, a breaking society, beyond, the aches of a world in pain. A powerful tugging between apparently opposite things, hopelessness and resilience, isolation and togetherness, all at once. Am I losing you? A deep connection to our homeplace, to staying, a complex reckoning with family, with the past, with the rubble, with the wind taken out of everyone’s sails, with new life and constant death. Returning to the feral tree farm. Raising goats, chickens, listening to birds, watching the river, growing a child. A deep clean spring. Home overgrown. So I started reaching out. Bringing