A garden is a sequestered patch of land, sometimes walled-in, separated from farm fields and entirely distinct from forest, created specifically for we human beings to cultivate plants and flowers that are to our liking -- almost none of which are to be found in those neighboring fields and forests.

Our “back garden” is surrounded by a picket fence painted forest green. A white picket fence and rows of tall arbor vitae delineate our “front garden.”

Being thus cloistered, a garden is a metaphor for a certain kind of psychic space where we let things happen in our minds that would most likely never happen when our minds are directed “out there,” projected upon the bustling world. It’s a space for pondering ancient tales, aphorisms lines of poetry, memories, dreams.

My late, dear friend Dick Ferrell quipped, “I’ve been trying to catch up on my day dreaming but my mind keeps wandering.”

In the garden, whether real or figurative, we scarcely acknowledge current events. What does Trump have to do with the weeds I pull or the mulch I spread? Nada. We escape the puzzling responsibilities and challenges of life. It is a temporary shelter from the news of the day, stock markets, sports arenas, corporate headquarters, suburban developments, offices, firing ranges, to say nothing of our relatives.

There is a time to escape all that, a time for solitude. A garden is not an exciting place but it is a place where we just might rediscover the wealth of our own psyche.

“When we love cultivation more than excitement, we are ready to start a garden,” wrote Robert Bly.

“Il faut cultiver notre jardin,” advises Voltaire.

Sometimes life forces us into a “garden” -- for ex. an illness or the recovery period after sustaining an injury, confining our activities for perhaps weeks. I was twelve weeks recovering from a broken ankle a few years ago; I wrote a lot of music during those three months.

Sometimes, we choose to seek out a garden and live there for a while … as when someone sets aside four months to hike the Appalachian Trail or when Thoreau built a cabin near the edge of Walden Pond. That became his garden for almost two years. And not just his bean field, but also his little writing desk indoors.

The piece of music I want to share with you today is titled "Garden Music" simply because I wrote almost the whole piece while seated at a table in the pavilion in the center of our “back garden.” You are at liberty to imagine weed-pulling and mulch-spreading but, really, the piece is about charm, the sweetness, the serenity, what we might call the spirit of the garden.

The music is very American-sounding. The final chord, in fact, is the very chord that permeates Copland’s "Appalachian Spring." Which is to say, the tonic in 6 position with the dominant sounded above, simultaneously. My opening tune, sounded by the oboe, derives directly from this chord and it appears again in the work’s final measure.

The piece is "mono-thematic" i.e., there is no contrasting "second theme." After a probing introduction, an accompanying figure is established and then the oboe enters, sounding the theme. It grows and grows, right on through the ending. Listen for the canons, when the viola plays the tune a measure behind the oboe. It's like two a couple saying: "Oh happy, happy we! How very sweet when we agree!"

As sometimes happens, I finished the piece before I found a suitable name for it. I happened to be sitting in the pavilion in our back garden. (See the second photo, below.) I looked around and thought, well, I’m in a garden, so how about “Garden Music.” ? That’s all there is to it.

The piece is “about” is contentment, bucolic serenity. Being “far from the madding crowd.”

My favorite moment — the heart of the piece — comes at 4:16 when the oboe plays the tune while the viola echoes the same tune only a measure later. A canon. Just for a little while. So sweet. Like two friends in agreement, sitting and chatting in a garden.

To hear a brand new recording of "Garden Music," played by oboist Yo Shionoya, violist Rose Gowda and cellist Michael Ronstadt, click on the link above. There's also a link to a PDF of the score.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
June 7, 2026

www.sowash.com

P.S. “Garden Music” will be featured on a CD now in production, slated for release early next year. Other CD recordings of my music can be purchased at kickshawrecords.com. And my books on amazon.com. Sales of my CDs and books help to cover the costs of making these recordings you kindly permit me to send to you every Sunday morning. Thanks for helping in this small but important way!