The Sound Of The Seasons - Spring
Your Guide
Mog Fry is an independent creative artist weaving songs, mantras and melodic meditations from the heart. Inspired from nature and the elements through voice, baritone and tenor ukulele, cuatro, wooden flutes, whistles and tongue drum. 🕊🧡🕊
Journey Description
The Sound Of The Seasons is an evolving collection of songs set to poetry—mostly by classic poets—inspired by the natural world and the changing character of each season.
Woven between the songs are instrumental flute pieces, accompanied by brief haiku-like reflections. These intimate musical sketches respond to particular places, moments and encounters with nature. The melodies are offered as quiet observations—sometimes spacious and meditative, sometimes shaped by birdsong, weather, light and movement.
Each flute sketch is paired with a small poem: a few carefully chosen words intended to open a space for listening and imagination. Together, the songs, music and poetry form a gentle seasonal journey through landscape, memory and the living world.
Journey Tracks
A Blessing
It is the first mild day of March:
Each minute sweeter than before
The redbreast sings from the tall larch
That stands beside our door.
There is a blessing in the air,
Which seems a sense of joy to yield
To the bare trees,
and mountains bare,
And grass in the green field.
(Original poem by William Wordsworth)
Early Bird
small yellow bunches
bring quiet healing of spring
gifts from earth mother
(poem by Mog Fry)
The Far Farers
The broad sun,
The bright day:
White sails
On the blue bay:
The far-farers
Draw away.
Light the fires
And close the door.
To the old homes,
To the loved shore,
The far-farers
Return no more.
(Original poem by Robert Louis Stevenson )
Finding Inner Sanctum
growing trees for love
communities are rising
planting seeds for hope
(poem by Mog Fry)
The Cuckoo
The cuckoo, she's a pretty bird,
she sings as she flies
She brings us good tidings
he tells us no lies
She sucketh white flowers
to make her voice clear
And the more she sings cuckoo
The summer draws near
(poem anon)
Call Of Gratitude
end of day relief
I thank the trees for the wood
and these paper prints
(poem by Mog Fry)
April'S Touch
The crocus, while the days are dark,
Unfolds its saffron sheen;
At April's touch the crudest bark
Discovers gems of green.
Then sleep the seasons, full of might;
While slowly swells the pod
And rounds the peach, and in the night
The mushroom bursts the sod.
The winter falls; the frozen rut
Is bound with silver bars; T
he snowdrift heaps against the hut,
And night is pierced with stars.
(Original poem by Coventry Patmore)
Sweet Water
from strong silver birch
branch bending for sap to flow
two ceramic cups
(poem by Mog Fry)
The Sparrow
A still light morning dew
Apple blossom birthing fruit
Watched by silver birch
To be with you
To taste and hold you
Into my arms to be one
To breathe with you
A morning wedding
Pink roses curling
Stone pillars, black birds bathe
Shifting seasons, grasses long
Green grows wild in bird prayer song
To share all with you
To share all with you
Confetti blowing
Petals are falling
Sparrow longs to bathe
What makes your heart sing
What makes you feel alive
Trees or hills or sea of sky
You will find a way to fly
Sparrow longs to bathe
Sparrow longs to bathe
Sparrow longs to bathe
(poem by Mog Fry)
Black Barn
sharing joyful songs
walking in celebration
nested in woodland
(poem by Mog Fry)
Listen to the Full Journey
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