52 Fridays: Favorite Song or Album Cover

Favorite song? How can I pick a favorite song? Do I go with some retro 80’s? The Smiths or The Smithereens? Songs from my childhood? The Eagles or Steve Miller? The ones that got me through college? The songs that get me through today?

Narrow it down – where to start – The Avett Brothers, Mates of State, Pat Green or Reckless Kelly…..

I love music – it took over 4 hours to transfer our iTunes library last night to a new computer. I can’t possibly pick one favorite song.

I can pick one that I sing in my head, over and over. It pertains to our livelihood, and fits quite well. I loved it long before I met Jon. Nanci Griffith has been a favorite of mine since junior high. Singer/songwriter/folksy/sometimes Irish-y type music. “Trouble in the Fields” has such a personal meaning, especially in the past decade when we have really had some tough farming years. Each spring, as the seeds do their work under the dirt and slowly emerge, forming first long straight lines then transforming the brown into seas of green, there is the hope and optimism of a fresh start.

Jessica Richter is the next photographer in the blog circle. Head her way to see what she’s cooked up this week.

Trouble in the Fields
Nanci Griffith and Rick West

Baby I know that we've got trouble in the fields
When the bankers swarm like locust out there turning away our yield
The trains roll by our silos, silver in the rain
They leave our pockets full of nothing
But our dreams and the golden grain

Have you seen the folks in line downtown at the station
They're all buying their ticket out and talking the great depression
Our parents had their hard times fifty years ago
When they stood out in these empty fields in dust as deep as snow

[Chorus:]
And all this trouble in our fields
If this rain can fall, these wounds can heal
They'll never take our native soil
But if we sell that new John Deere
And then we'll work these crops with sweat and tears
You'll be the mule I'll be the plow
Come harvest time we'll work it out
There's still a lotta love, here in these troubled fields

There's a book up on the shelf about the dust bowl days
And there's a little bit of you and a little bit of me
In the photos on every page
Now our children live in the city and they rest upon our shoulders
They never want the rain to fall or the weather to get colder

[Chorus]

You'll be the mule I'll be the plow
Come harvest time we'll work it out
There's still a lotta love, here in these troubled fields