The Fields Lie Silent Now written by Colin Gates
A great song written by Colin Gates such a joy to sing with the vivid images he portrays of Charlwood the village near where I was brought up. He has produced a superb book ‘Tales From Beyond The Old Parish Pump’ so well documented and illustrated with archival photos, which has brought memories of my childhood racing back to me. Martyn
Tales From Beyond The Old Parish Pump by Colin Gates
I have walked the foot-paths and fields around Charlwood for many years in all seasons. Probably always having a dog has given me the excuse for exploring the countryside I love. One crisp early winter evening I was walking my Lurcher dog around Great High Field when a lone crow flew overhead and made for a group of oaks which were silhouetted against the setting sun. A song began to germinate. By the time we arrived home I had the backbone of the song and sang it to my wife Susie. ( Who immediately tweaked the tune to give it more substance. The song could be about a rare slack period at the nearby airport but is actually a seasonal song about the fields at a peaceful time of day during a quiet time of the farming calendar. Colin
THE FIELDS LIE SILENT NOW
by Colin Gates
The sky is high and wide night above the silent mill
The last rays of the winters sun lay gold upon the hill
Then from the shadow of the barn I hear the first owl’s cry
The silver pools left by the plough hold the first star in the sky
Gone the leaf and gone the lark the wild rose and the plough
The birds have flown their summer home the fields lie silent now.
Dark furrows climbing Great High Field guide the crow back to his nest
Where the oaks stand interlaced against the golden west
Frost creeps in upon the land with deep December cold
All the fields lie silent now the year is growing old.
Red berries in the bare hedgerow and acorns on the ground
Fade slowly in the dying light as darkness folds around
The woods and fields together now their winter secrets keep
With the beauty of the autumn just a dream recalled in sleep.
The sky is high and wide tonight above the silent mill
And mother nature sleeps tonight on the dark side of the hill
But as the seasons slowly turn and when the sky is blue
The buds in May will tell the tale of the power to renew.