This is the #FirstFruits of this year's FAWM. Where I am, we're deep in bitter, cold winter - the coldest that we've had in a long while. It feels almost personal, especially given the state of the US right now.

This song is styled like an old English #folk song. I started out thinking it was a lullaby. It is very much not a lullaby. Parts of it can be, however, a round.

The underpinnings came naturally and gently. I wasn't sure where this would go, or what it would sound like. For my first foray into using Logic, I'm content with the result. Vocally, it's not my strongest - but it is literally the middle of the night and I haven't been singing much lately. There's a lot of rust to knock off this season.

It's also not really about birds.

Where Is the Bird

Where is the bird that sang her song Boldly from the briar Where the bird that flew along In a murmurating choir?

Where is the bird from the barley break? Where is the bird that gathered corn Surely she will not me forsake Who sang to me each morn?

All color drained in a season too harsh. Winter has come, long and hard Branches shatter beneath the ice Bitterness haunts the gate of each yard As Wind rattles reeds of the frozen marsh.

Will there come summer, will there be spring? When will the green rise up at last? Will winged choirs return to sing Or is their time now past?

Where is the bird that sang her song Boldly from the briar Where the bird that flew along In a murmurating choir?

Where is the bird from the barley break? Where is the bird that gathered corn Surely I will not she forsake Who sang to me each morn?