From the recording Cole Pond
I remember every summer driving down that road.
Sit in the back with my brother, watch the countryside unroll.
With the dog and the cooler, and an evergreen breeze. The sun rising up the mountain side, it's blinking through the trees.
And the water shines like a diamond, and chases us down, out over to the landing where the wheels break the ground.
We'd close the door, and we'd run to the grassy shore, back again in the heart of Cole Pond
And a fire built in the evening on a bed of branch and stone, cracking sparks and stories, so good to be away from home.
We'd wake up and go fishing, before the early fog breaks and cast out into the deepest dark, watch the line and wait.
And we'd wait a long, we'd wait till the nightfall comes. Back again in the heart of Cole Pond
Just a hidden cove, that no one knows, just the locals here, it's been that way for years. An old dirt road that's overgrown. Embedded history in the forest and the stone. And it feels like peace, yeah it feels like peace, yeah it feels like peace.
Salamander's and dragonflies, the glow of campfire in the night, an Indian summer where the nights get cold, so simple then, I remember those days.
Hiking trails and skipping rocks, watch the ripple from the docks. An Indian summer where the nights get cold. So simple then I remember those days.