Three Dog Day

    The birds are migrating from the south to the north and it's heating up in Arizona - we are migrating north with the birds. It's that time of year again when we move our lifestyle up to the high country: Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  

      I trade in my stilettos and little black dresses for cowgirl boots and levis. The whirling lifestyle of the big city is traded for the slower pace of the country... more time to walk and breathe. The buffalo, elk, deer, and moose all drink from our ponds and a drive into town 15 minutes away assures you of time to think as you gaze upon the Grand Tetons. 
     The internet has changed things for me in a good way.  My blog and website help with staying connected when I am physically in another vicinity. For those of you who haven't seen my website in awhile, I have added a public speaking page which has some videos and audios of my talks. I like to think that public speaking is still a tool that is useful when appropriate and when and where I choose to use it.
     I've changed my home page music and offer it as my new download!      For those of you who didn't catch my radio concert, I'll send you the link when the podcast is available in this next couple of weeks. Here's a song I wrote about my second home in Wyoming called Three Dog Day.  For an explanation of the inspiration for the name and subject matter of this song, please refer to my News and Press Page and at the very bottom is an article from the Jackson Hole News and Guide entitled: Conservationist Musician Celebrates Wild:



THREE DOG DAY   
 
A)  Woke up this morning, looked out the window to see the snow-  covered craigs of the Grand Tetons: the Grand Lady of the Rocky Mountains (a place I call my second home). The snow-capped peaks slowly bathed by a glowing pink light from the rising sun. . . awakening in my soul, also, a pink sunrise: a brand new day.  Ravens cry, eagles fly, the Indians say "It's a good day to die:" it's a Three Dog Day. 
 
B) Soft-focus snowy landscape:  lodgepole pines with outstretched arms. Lodgepole pines with outstretched arms piled high with snow; like dancers on a wind-whipped stage, their dance broken by the rushing of snow dropping into a powdered spray. It's a Three Dog Day.
Chorus:

Backbone of the Rockies, Serenghetti of the West: could be coyote, fox, or wolf, heart beats in my chest. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, running wild and free. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, and if you see all three...you can say, "It's a Three Dog Day, it's a Three Dog Day." 

 
C) Up ahead a lone gray figure crosses the road and joins her mate and daughter on the other side, waiting patiently for her with steaming breath, as cars whiz by, as cars whiz by. I hold my breath until she safely joins them on the other side, waiting patiently for her with steaming breath, as cars whiz by...as cars whiz by.         
 
D) A heard of elk. My heart beats faster as on the horizon I see a dark figure bounding from behind the butte, and as the elk run faster, the wolf runs faster; the elk run faster, the wolf runs faster. Primitive knowing: the ungulates dignified by crowns of horns, knowing fear but for an instant when death is near; and looks into the eyes of the sick and the old who surrender their lives, and nature doesn't grieve, no nature doesn't grieve. Ravens cry, eagles fly, the Indians say "It's a good day to die." It's a Three Dog Day.
 
Chorus 
Backbone of the Rockies, Serenghetti of the West: could be coyote, fox, or wolf, heart beats in my chest. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, running wild and free. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, and if you see all three...you can say, "It's a Three Dog Day, it's a Three Dog Day." 
 
E) Yellowstone in winter: the sister who lives next door to the Grand Lady of the Rockies. Yellowstone National Park: America's best idea. White swans glide on icy ponds. Land of steaming, sacred mud pots; leap-frogging cauldrons blip and blurp. Snow-masked buffalo roam into steaming circles. Bones of a buffalo brother lie at the bottom of a painted pool - 200 degree steaming blow hole roars. It's a Three Dog Day.   
 
F) Where will these wild creatures be in another hundred years? Will there still be places they run wild and free, to teach us of Great Mystery? The silence of snowy places not changed by human traces. Lodgepole pines with outstretched arms holding piles of snow on wind-whipped stages; buffalo with great white masks, elk with crowns of horns, and swans on icy ponds. Where ravens cry and eagles fly and the Indians say "It's a good day to die."; will coyote fox and wolf be here, will they still be here to say, "It's a Three Dog Day, it's a Three Dog Day?"

Chorus
Backbone of the Rockies, Serenghetti of the West: could be coyote, fox, or wolf, heart beats in my chest. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, running wild and free. Could be coyote, fox, or wolf, and if you see all three...you can say, "It's a Three Dog Day, it's a Three Dog Day." 
  
Tag:  Oh Lord, let us pray for a Three Dog Day. Oh Lord, let them stay - Three Dog Day, Three Dog Day.

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