Welcome to the latest edition of the Fog Chaser newsletter—sharing a new original instrumental song & photos every month. (previous issue: equinox)1
Speaking of music: A song I shared here last year, ‘Downstream’, is now streaming everywhere—give it a listen.
And mark your calendars: another of last year’s tracks, ‘Light Through The Valley’, drops on 11/6. You can pre-save it on Spotify now to hear it the moment it’s live, which really helps boost the release and support my work. Thank you!
October, Big Bend. Fog settles into the canyons and erases the trails ahead. You walk anyway, trusting (hoping?) the path will reveal itself.
Autumn in the desert is all weathering—wind carving stone, temperature swings cracking rock, everything made more beautiful because of what it endures, not in spite of it. According to National Geographic, “No rock on Earth is hard enough to resist the forces of weathering and erosion.” No human is, either.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we weather the things we face, the things we endure. I’ve been thinking about my amazing wife as we weather a new chapter together as parents to our delightful 2.5 year old—the heart-stopping moments, the small wounds, the immense joys, the leaning on each other.
There’s a moment in this month’s song where you can hear her laughing, tucked quietly into the mix, from a recording I took of us sitting around a campfire (from our pre-kid era).
The love I feel in my heart these days overflows; sometimes it overwhelms. It’s deafening, and terrifying, and life-giving. Day-to-day it shows up in subtle, quiet ways: holding ice to a lip, kissing a scraped knee, crouching down for a close listen and eye contact, walking foggy trails together, trusting each other through what we can’t yet see.
Gregory Orr’s poem “Father’s Song,” below, captures this perfectly:
“Round and round; bow and kiss. I try to teach her caution; she tries to teach me risk.”
Parenthood. Partnership. The weathering of it all.
I’m grateful for the opportunity to send these songs to you every month. Thank you for being here today.
🎵 This month’s piece is in E major.2
Some guitar, winds, keys, and the laugh that has given me a reason for the last 15 years.
For more guitar songs from this volume, check out through the tall grass, a bright & shining place, and equinox.
📷 This month’s photos were taken in Big Bend National Park.3
Father’s Song
by Gregory Orr4
Yesterday, against admonishment,
my daughter balanced on the couch back,
fell and cut her mouth.Because I saw it happen I knew
she was not hurt, and yet
a child’s blood’s so red
it stops a father’s heart.My daughter cried her tears;
I held some ice
against her lip.
That was the end of it.Round and round; bow and kiss.
I try to teach her caution;
she tries to teach me risk.
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.
more ways to listen.
🎵 YouTube Playlists - hours of extended music for work, focus, and relaxation
🎵 Fog Chaser+ - Monthly playlists, full archive of 50+ songs, including unreleased tracks
🔒 For paid subscribers:
Wed., Oct. 27: the wellspring, a monthly round-up of my inspirations (check out last month’s issue)
🎵 Official releases:
In case you missed it, Downstream is available now on all platforms — listen here. Light Through The Valley comes out on 11/6 — help me out and pre-save it on Spotify.
📺 New On YouTube:
I’ve been building something new on YouTube for extended listening—1-hour+ ambient versions perfect for focus and flow. This week: “Elysia” and “Wao,” two tracks from the Oblivion soundtrack I wrote for Elle Griffin. Subscribe for more.
Until then, I’ll see you in the comments.
-Matt
Spotify • Apple Music • Bandcamp • YouTube • Website
equinox was generously shared in the Substack Post a couple of weeks ago to mark the autumnal equinox - thanks so much, Substack.
weathering / 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.
Shot on DSLR / Big Bend National Park in the Chihuahuan Desert / Texas, USA
Source: Poetry (June 1992)
