A week ago Sonoma County, where I live, received its first substantial rainfall of the season. By the time the deluge had passed, nearly 8 inches of rain had fallen over a 24 hour period.

It rained last night. I mean it really rained. This was not the fleeting storm of a couple days ago but an actual sustained storm that lasted through the night. Rain was still falling when I woke up this morning with no sign of letting up any time soon.

After dinner last night I sat out on our deck. It was dark except for the small candle lantern that I had lit. Raindrops swished and rat-a-tatted onto the plastic roof that covers the deck. The speed and intensity of the raindrops ebbed and flowed, alternating  from a near downpour to barely a whisper, on and on while I sat there in silent gratitude. The plants and animals, rocks and grasses, creeks, rivers and lakes – all desiccated and desperate for rain, any rain – were drinking in this glorious autumn shower. I could feel their collective sighs along with my own. The intoxicating smells of wet earth perfumed the air. I filled my lungs again and again and just couldn’t get enough. 

When I looked out our bedroom window this morning, the grass was aglow with millions of water droplets, each one reflecting a tiny piece of the new day. The branches of our fruit trees were bowed with the weight of last night’s soaking. The red and green apples looked even more inviting than usual; having been washed clean they shone as if polished. Small puddles had formed on our deck, darkening the weathered redwood.

The past four Octobers have been a trying time as we’ve all been living under constant threat of wildfires. Evacuations, smoke, red flag warnings and power shut offs had become a depressing reality of life here in Sonoma County. Thankfully this is an altogether different year. Every raindrop that falls hastens the end of fire season.

All living things are drinking in this rain. Let it pour until the creeks and rivers are once again flowing, until the lakes and reservoirs are swollen, until the parched brown hillsides light up in their winter shades of green, until the air is once again filled with a symphony of croaking frogs, until rain is no longer a dream but a part of the Earth’s and our renewal. Let us all rejoice and give thanks for rain.

My son has a particularly creative English teacher. For a recent assignment she had her students choose 7-10 songs that were important to them at some point in their lives. They were to write a short vignette about why each song was important, create a playlist and link it to Spotify. They even had to make an album cover. Pretty cool way to motivate high school seniors, huh? So, this got me thinking. Here are a few tunes that are signposts in my life.

She Loves You

The Beatles

Written by John Lennon/Paul McCartney

In late 1963 I was seven years old and The Beatles were on the cusp of their maiden voyage to America. There was a small music store in my hometown called Caldwell Studio of Music which sold all the latest hit records. That’s where my brother Ray and I bought She Loves You. This song was being played pretty much non-stop on WABC radio, it was the most joyous music that either of us had ever heard and we just had to have it. It was on the Swan label and I can still visualize the design (silver script letters on a black background). The three part harmonies, jangly guitars and rock solid beat courtesy of Ringo made this the perfect song for jumping up and down on our beds, which Ray and I did with reckless abandon as we played this song over and over and over.

Suite: Judy Blue Eyes

Crosby, Stills and Nash

Written by Stephen Stills

This is the first song on CSN’s eponymously titled debut album and the song  that kicked off their middle of the night set at Woodstock. Right before hitting the now instantly recognizable notes of the song’s intro, Stills confessed to the crowd  of 400,000 that he and his bandmates were “scared shitless.” Hearing this 3-part song suite lamenting the end of Stills’ love affair with Judy Collins was the beginning of my lifelong love affair with Crosby, Stills and Nash. Their music and songwriting have been a continuous source of inspiration to me for nearly half a century. Suite: Judy Blue Eyes was on the turntable the first time my college girlfriend and I made love.

Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright

Bob Dylan

Written by Bob Dylan

In early 1975, I walked into a party at the apartment of a college friend of mine. In the back bedroom, I heard acoustic guitar music playing so I went to check it out. A guy and a gal (soon to become my dear friends Ben and Laurie) were deep into a rollicking rendition of Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright. Their guitars were ringing out, Laurie was singing it like Joni Mitchell and both had smiles on their faces a mile wide. The room was filled with other kids dancing and grooving to the music. I took one look at this joyous scene and decided right then and there that I wanted to be able to play like Ben and Laurie. I’ve been a musician ever since and I can trace it all back to that exact moment in time.

Heart of Gold

Neil Young

Written by Neil Young

Soon after the aforementioned event, I went out and bought my first guitar: a Yamaha FG-160 that set me back a whopping $75. Many in my new circle of college friends were musicians, they encouraged me and tolerated my stumbling initial attempts at playing the guitar. They graciously invited me into their jams and taught me my first guitar chords. I was driven and determined to succeed. The learning curve on guitar is steep though. What finally got me over that curve was Neil Young’s album Harvest. I spent countless hours locked in my room listening to that record until I could play every song. Heart of Gold was the first song that I learned to sing and play in its entirety. I’m still playing it today.

Amie

Pure Prairie League

Written by Craig Fuller

After much woodshedding, I’d gotten to the point in my guitar playing where I could finally hold my own in the jams. My pals Ben, Bruce, Tim and myself formed a little group we called BLT. We were the “headliners” at many a wild party in the dorms and at our friends’ off campus apartments. What a rush it was for me to be making the music instead of being just a spectator. I was lead singer on the majority of our songs not because I had the best voice, it was passable at best, but because I was the only one who could remember all the lyrics. Amie was our signature tune and the song I most think of when recalling that period in my life. It was the perfect song to kickstart a party. Hearing our friends singing along with us and being moved by our music helped give the confidence to move forward as a musician. 

Ventura Highway

America

Written by Dewey Bunnell

Growing up on the east coast in the 60’s and 70’s I was inundated with California culture. TV, movies and most powerfully for me, music were filled with enticing images of sunshine, beautiful girls, endless beaches and freedom. To me California was a mythical place where all things seemed possible. Nothing embodied those possibilities in my mind more than Ventura Highway. The twin acoustic guitar intro, Dewey’s sweet and mellow lead vocal and three part harmonies are gradually joined by bass and drums until the song builds into a rollicking anthem to the promise and beauty of California. Listening to that song as a New Jersey teenager, I’d close my eyes and imagine that it was MY hair the free wind was blowing through.  By the end of the 70’s I would be living in California. Of course, the Ventura Freeway in Southern California is just an ugly and crowded freeway but for me it will always be the road to freedom.

Bertha

The Grateful Dead

Written by Jerry Garcia/Robert Hunter

My entry point for the Grateful Dead, in Deadspeak when I “got on the bus,”was their 1972 double live album. Eponymously titled Grateful Dead, this record is also known as Skull and Roses. Bertha is the lead track on the album.  What grabbed me at the onset about this song was surprisingly not just Jerry Garcia’s guitar work but rather the inventive and melodic playing of bassist Phil Lesh. With Phil at the helm, the bass is front and center throughout this album, providing the perfect counterpoint to Jerry’s  interstellar meandering and Bob Weir’s inventive rhythm guitar work. It’s hard to overstate the importance of The Dead in my life. I met my wife and virtually every friend I have directly or indirectly through The Dead. This merry band of fun seekers and chance takers opened up a world of possibilities for me. I was inspired by them to take the road less traveled, so to speak and to live a more free spirited and adventurous life.

My Sweet Lord

George Harrison

Written by George Harrison

My Sweet Lord  has been a part of my life since finding the 45rpm record of this song under the Christmas tree in 1970. Songs come and go throughout our lives. Some blaze like a shooting star, others are constant like the sunrise. My Sweet Lord is my sunrise. The power and beauty of this song has not diminished one iota in the half century I’ve been listening to it. It never fails to send a chill up my spine and bring tears to my eyes. I believe that George and producer Phil Spector were tapped into something truly divine during the recording of My Sweet Lord.