This piece is meant to move through different effects of weather, with a slightly melancholy air. The overall notion is one of taking comfort from the idea that weather will eventually erase all record of one’s existence on earth. Like music, human beings can be considered a temporal art form – one that exists only in the moment, and quickly disappears thus making it all the more valuable. There is a small moment of controlled improvisation for the choir to explore.

Text (Carmen Braden)
On the ground beside a very tiny grave grew a small flower, grew all alone.
Then one day not so very long ago sparrows came and took the flower and flew away.

In the air around a very tiny grave flew a yellow wasp, flew all alone.
Watching the sun grow grass on the gravestone, covering the words but we know wasps can’t read.

In the air above a very tiny grave blew the north wind, blew all alone.
Bringing the snow to level the earth so no one will know that there ever was a grave.

In the ground below a very tiny grave lay a small child, lay all alone.
Welcoming weather coming to take her grave back to the place where she had come from.