Late Autumn - Innisfil Beach

I remember that day vividly. I was sitting on a rock overlooking Lake Simcoe when Mary, my artist confidant, stopped for a chat. She was light-hearted and left me to my youthful sadness. I’d spent the summer in our run-down family cottage writing songs and she was my sounding board. The last leaves were falling, the waves were high, and a swallow crashed into the rocks and died. The night was approaching and I could feel winter was near. I left a part of myself back there that day. It was a time of change, a realization that life would never be the same.

Fredrick Brooks - Guitars, Bass Guitar, Keyboards, Harmonica Chris Pezzarello - Drums

Produced by Fredrick Brooks Written by Fredrick Brooks Photo by Caroline Brooks

Winter’s On The Rise

Laugh, laugh old Mary The fighter swallow’s taken his life I’ve been to the waterfront And winter’s on the rise

The wind has whipped the white crowns Pebbles argue on the shore And the sky looks sad in the pale moonlight Blow on winter wind - I hear your call

The leaves like passengers Nod their heads in slow release And I’m the poet with no words to stand This night will hold no peace

So laugh, laugh old Mary The fighter swallow’s taken his life I’ve been to the waterfront And winter’s on the rise

©Fredrick Brooks