“The sparrows are preparing for winter, each one dressed in a plain brown coat and singing a cheerful song.” SongSingingWinterBrownPreparingCoatsCheerfulSparrows Author:Charles Kuralt
“I must return to the mountains-to Yosemite. I am told that the winter storms there will not be easily borne, but I am bewitched, enchanted, and tomorrow I must start for the great temple to listen to the winter songs and sermons preached and sung only there.” SongReturnTomorrowMountainWinterStormTemplesSermonsEnchantedYosemiteBewitched Book:John Muir: His Life and Letters and Other Writings Source: John Muir: His Life and Letters and Other Writings
“Unnur Birna is a Reykjavik-based violinist and singer. She has performed as a session musician with countless Icelandic and international artists while recording and appearing as a solo artist as well. Unnur has joined me as an unpaid guest on a few Icelandic shows in recent years, so it is a great pleasure to return the favour and appear on one of her songs at last. This new track, Sunshine, came about in Italy, written as an ode to sunlight and happiness after fleeing the dark winter in Iceland” YearsWellsShowsLastsArtistSongDarkPleasureWrittenReturnMusicianWinterInternationalTrackSingersSunshineGuestsSunlightSoloFavourSessionAppearingFleeingViolinistIcelandOdesReykjavik Author:Ian Anderson
“I should be glad of loneliness And hours that go on broken wings,A thirsty body, a tired heart And the unchanging ache of things,If I could make a single song As lovely and as full of light,As hushed and brief as a falling star On a winter night.” IfsShouldHeartBodyLightNightSongFallStarsHoursLonelinessBrokenGoes OnTiredWingsWinterGladLovelyIf I CouldAcheThirstyUnchangingWinter NightBroken Wings Book:Flame and Shadow Source: Flame and Shadow
“Weird, isn't it Somehow in the dead of winter when its 40 below, so cold your words just freeze in the air, you think you'll never hear a robin's song again or see a blossom on a cherry tree, when one day you wake up and bingo, light coming through the mini blinds is softened with a tick of rose and the cold morning air has lost its bite. It's spring once again, the streets are paved with mud and the hills are alive with the sound of mosquitos.” ThinkingLightSongLostSoundMorningAliveAirTreeStreetsColdOne DaySpringWake UpRoseWinterHillsBitesMudFreezeCherriesRobinsTickCherry TreesBingoMorning AirCold Morning Author:Andrew Schneider