Stories behind the songs: "Trust the Trees" Mini-EP

"Trust the Trees" is a collection of three nature-based songs by Joel Brogon coming May 1st, 2024. Intentionally timed for release amidst Spring and the celebration of Earth Day, this project is meant to be an ode to our intrinsic bond with nature and a profound willingness to surrender to its guiding essence.

Stories behind the songs:

“Trust the Trees”

The words “Trust the Trees" had been rolling around in my head for a while after a friend said them to me at a Winter Solstice gathering in 2021. I hadn’t really put much work into crafting a song around it but the thought of it was living in my head. Then, Uvalde (school shooting) happened. I was so shaken I couldn’t really even talk about it or much of anything else for several days and spent a lot of time sitting in silence in our back garden. Then one evening the line “we cannot be trusted, it’s time to trust the trees” came to me and the rest flowed from there. It was one of those rare occasions when a song was completely written and finished in just a few minutes. A few months later I had the opportunity to share the song for the first time at a summer camp for LGBTQ+ youth and their allies and it was both comforting and heart-wrenching to see how the words resonated with them. In that moment, “Trust the Trees” became more than a song - it became a mantra - a reminder that there is always strength to be found in the natural world and in each other.

“Flowers on the Road”

Every Spring while growing up in the 1980’s in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas, my family would load up picnic baskets and ice chests and head north towards Kingsville for our annual “flower tour.” The wildflowers along Highway 77 were absolutely spectacular in those days. There were endless fields of bluebonnets, winecups, primroses and countless other types of wildflowers on either side of the road and the middle “island.” We’d drive along, stopping at the more impressive swaths of color until we wound up at an old picnic area near Riviera where we would stop for lunch. 
This was the one rare occasion of the year when both sides of the family would gather together. The contrast between my mother’s family who had more of a simplistic Southern worldview and my father’s family who were Northern and more cerebral and intellectual was striking, yet everyone got along and found common ground in the beauty of the day.  
As I’ve grown older, it’s been hard to watch as progress and construction have taken most of these places and concrete has become more common than dirt along these old roads. Thankfully, there are still some patches that have yet to be paved over. I often think of those Spring days and how the sight of a primrose takes me right back to the side of Highway 77, walking hand in hand with my ancestors. 

“I Can’t See the Moon” 

“I Can’t See the Moon” was born in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic as I was anxiously awaiting test results after potential exposure. I found myself outside seeking solace in the moon but its absence from my viewpoint only added to my anxiety. Eventually, the moon revealed itself and its familiar glow eased my soul. “I Can’t See the Moon” ultimately became a positive declaration of hope in the face of fear and uncertainty and speaks to the comfort nature can bring in difficult times.