Dan Fogelberg - The Reach
It’s Maine… And it’s Autumn The birches have just begun turning
It’s life and it’s dying*The lobstermen’s boats come returning
With the catch of they day in their holds and the young boys cold and complaining The fog meets the beaches and out on the Reach it is raining –
It’s father and son It’s the way it’s been done since the old days
It’s hauling by hand ten miles out from the land where their chow waits
All the days get so lonely and long and seas grow so stormy and strong but
The Reach will sing welcome as homeward they hurry along.
The wind brings a chill There’s a frost on the sill in the morning
It creeps through the door At the edge of the shore ice is forming
Soon the northers will bluster and blow
And the woods will be whitened with snowfall
And the Reach will lie frozen for the lost and unchosen to row –
And the morning will blow away As the waves crash and fall
And the Reach like a siren sings as she beckons and calls
As the coastline recedes from view And the seas swell and roll
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I will take from the Reach all that she has to teach
To the depths of my soul –
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