Program Note:
For a significant majority of the Amtrak route from Boston to Washington, the scenery is largely industrial – highways, polluted waterways, the backsides of our major cities. But there is one glorious respite along the coast of Connecticut, where the train runs along quiet beaches and marshes brimming with grasses and seabirds. As a heron looked up lazily at the sound of the train barreling past, I couldn’t help but wonder what this bird must think of our strange, busy way of life.
The term “backwaters” has three definitions: a part of a river not reached by the current, where water is stagnant; an isolated or peaceful place; an area or condition in which no development or progress is occurring. Such circumstances seem almost unfathomable amidst the tumultuous whirlwind of modern life – and yet here is the heron, perched silently on a piece of driftwood, waiting. How utterly senseless our clamoring and climbing becomes when we remember that we too were once like the heron, spending our days fishing in the calm waters of the bay.
Commissioned by Andrea Rouse.
—cJg 2021
Link to recording: https://youtu.be/0M6RqQh0MK4
