Mossy Trails

In September 2021, I spent a week at Mossy Trails - an off-grid working homestead near Athabasca, Alberta, owned and run by the Johnson family. They recently began a residency program centred around sustainable living and creative time in nature.

I came to Mossy to work on a music project that began in April 2020. During the early days of the pandemic, I turned to songwriting as a way to cope with the, well, you know... Feelings. These were songs born of isolation and heaviness, in a downtown apartment. I wanted to let them stretch their legs in the country.

I camped out in a trapper tent for a week in early September, just as the leaves were turning. In the mornings I'd put coffee and breakfast on the camp stove and spend a few slow hours writing and singing. I went for long walks in the forest, sat by the pond, said hello to the mushrooms popping up out of the moss.

At dinnertime I'd walk up to the house and sit by the fire with the Johnsons. Marilyn made salads with edible flowers, hot rice and pasta with fresh herbs from the garden. After dinner, Nick and I headed out to the stage - a converted school bus from the seventies - to practice our songs under the stars. After years of playing music alone in my apartment, it was liberating to sing out into the darkness, to a highly supportive audience of one human, one cat, and two donkeys.

I thought my time at Mossy would be spent making sound, but I mostly ended up listening - to the wind in the leaves, the crackle of wasps, the pond lapping at the cattails. I listened to the voices in my head, to the leftover world-anxiety and current-event-fear in my chest. I tried to imagine that the sound of my thoughts and the sound of the wind were coming from the same place - as if all of it were just the environment speaking, that none of it was mine. I tried to braid myself into the environment. I found some peace in blending these inner and outer worlds together, listening to all of it equally.

On Saturday night, we put on a concert featuring Smokey, Aaron Parker, and myself. We shared music with strangers, family, and some friends, new and old. Afterwards, we all gathered by the fire until the thunderclouds rolled in.

I'm grateful for the peace and perspective this week brought me. The forest helped me slow down and listen, and the Johnsons radiated kindness and a love for nature that I hope to carry forwards.

Here’s demo of the song I wrote during my stay. Thanks for listening.