Welcome to the latest edition of the Fog Chaser newsletter, sending a new original instrumental song to you every month. (previous issue: through the tall grass)
I write instrumental music as a balm, both for myself, and for others. I hope this month’s piece can provide you with a few minutes to zone out, recenter, or refocus.
For this current volume, Volume IV, I’m writing music that reflects and responds to desert landscapes.
In the language of the Tohono O’odham, the term most akin to “desert” is “tohono.” It can best be translated as “a bright and shining place,” that is, a place of reflectance and, perhaps, of human reflection.
-Gary Paul Nabhan, The Nature of Desert Nature
Standing in Saguaro National Park in the Sonoran Desert, one can appreciate how accurate the Tohono O’odham description of this landscape is — this is indeed a bright and shining place.1
The contrasts here are stark, the colors vivid. 500 shades of green — jade, olive, juniper, emerald, sage — all accentuated by extreme light and deep shadows. The blues are blue; the sky is pure, unmarred magnificence. The way sunsets blush here every evening, without fail, dust the heavens with hues that make even Pantone feel limited. All of it can be quite stunning.
🎵 This month’s piece is a guitar song in E major, in open tuning.2
This month’s song is a reflection on the saturation and brightness of the Sonoran Desert. Like last month’s song, it’s written in an open tuning in part to mirror the wide open spaces of the desert.
📷 This month’s photos were taken on film in Saguaro National Park.3
The light leaks on my old film camera seem to be getting out of control, but I’m partial to them.
I invite you to sit with this month’s song, photos, and poem and make them a small part of your day, whether that’s your morning ritual, afternoon break, or your evening wind-down.
As always, if you feel like it, let me know what you think in the comments. I’d love to hear from you.
Thank you for being here.
Special mention: I wrote a piece of music to accompany a gorgeous new essay written by one of my absolute favorite writers,
, author of the newsletter Death & Birds. Click below to listen to our collaboration:
Piute Creek
by Gary Snyder4
🔈 A reading (by me):
One granite ridge
A tree, would be enough
Or even a rock, a small creek,
A bark shred in a pool.
Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted
Tough trees crammed
In thin stone fractures
A huge moon on it all, is too much.
The mind wanders. A million
Summers, night air still and the rocks
Warm. Sky over endless mountains.
All the junk that goes with being human
Drops away, hard rock wavers
Even the heavy present seems to fail
This bubble of a heart.
Words and books
Like a small creek off a high ledge
Gone in the dry air.A clear, attentive mind
Has no meaning but that
Which sees is truly seen.
No one loves rock, yet we are here.
Night chills. A flick
In the moonlight
Slips into Juniper shadow:
Back there unseen
Cold proud eyes
Of Cougar or Coyote
Watch me rise and go.
through the tall grass {acoustic performance}
Please enjoy this stripped-down, unedited performance video of 'through the tall grass', filmed in a single take.
🔒 For paid subscribers:
Wed., June 25: the wellspring, a monthly round-up of my inspirations (check out last month’s issue)
Sun., June 29: a simple video of me playing this month’s song (solo guitar)
Until then, I’ll see you in the comments.
☕ This newsletter is entirely reader-supported. If you enjoy what I provide but aren’t ready to become a paid subscriber, you can buy me a coffee to help fuel the next composition.
a bright & shining place / Written, performed, and produced by Fog Chaser.
As a reminder: while some of my songs are eventually released on streaming platforms, others are not. Either way, all of my songs are shared here with you first.
All shot on 35mm film (Fujifilm Superia / ISO 400) / Saguaro National Park, Arizona, USA.
From No Nature: New & Selected Poems by Gary Snyder. (1992 / Pantheon)
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