Land of the Living Skies
For Cole & family
In October of 2020, a year already full of sorrow and confusion, a dear old friend wrote to tell me her husband had died suddenly and tragically in a a work accident.
My response—the common response of all who heard the news about this strong, quiet, indefatigable man—was disbelief.
Not Cole. Impossible.
In a world where virtue is rare, constancy is scarce, and loyalty and integrity are quickly disappearing, Cole stood as a towering giant of goodness. All was right with the world when Cole was around. He brought gravity and peace with his presence.
His loss was the cratering of a whole universe.
Tristen and Cole had met many years prior, online, by one of them searching the word “farm,” and this word and reality remained in the defining center of who they were, along with faith, fidelity, hard work, and their beautiful children.
I had the immense privilege of visiting and singing in their town and at their farm in Saskatchewan, where Tristen and Cole graciously hosted me several times. There, I also had my one and only experience of herding sheep—with a perilous four-wheeler while everyone was wincing that I would probably flip it and get injured. I remember Cole laughing.
Strange to me is the fact that I can trace my falling in love with my home, Saskatchewan, after only ever wanting to leave for Los Angeles, to a specific moment years ago, driving with them in Tristen’s blue SUV on the stark winter highway. They had just gotten engaged. The image of that drive, staring out the window into vastness of white, burned into me and became the eventual inspiration for my song, "Winter Lullaby,” which will be re-releasing soon with this set of songs dedicated to Cole.
An ariel view of their farm.
After his loss, I was unable to leave for Canada for the funeral while everything was still in the virus disaster peak. But in the spring, I was able to fly out to sing at Cole’s American memorial service, where much of Tristen’s Minnesotan friends and family were able to come and grieve for the first time.
It was here that Tristen offered to fund an album I had been dreaming of creating: one about Saskatchewan and about some consistent themes I had been considering often since moving away, as well as the parallels with Joni Mitchell, the great singer-songwriter from my same hometown whose shadow seems to have followed me throughout my career, from Nashville to London and in small towns and large cities across Canada.
At the time, neither of us knew that the album would de facto end up being about Cole. I’d forgotten the connection with Winter Lullaby. I hadn’t considered the absolute thoroughness of Cole’s Saskatchewan roots, a reality that would resonate with other songs I had ready. I offered to write a song, the one I’m sharing today, for him, in his honor.
Then, Tristen sent me a cute little song she’d written about them looking for their farm. I couldn’t resist singing it and adding it to the list of tracks. This one:
And suddenly, somewhere, I just knew this upcoming EP, “Living Skies: love you still,” was for him, and for Tristen and the kids who continue to love and mourn him. This brings me a sober but inescapable joy. These are not the kind of perfect plot lines we can write on our own. There is a divine presence at work when things come together so remarkably.
I didn’t even plan the release dates of the songs most apropos to Cole’s life to be bookends around his day of death this past week, either.
Sometimes, as an artist, you truly do just feel as though you are a strange and mysterious tool in God’s hand.
(Update: In another striking detail, last night my Instagram stories were filled with people from home in Saskatchewan posting images of the Northern Lights - our living skies. I’m not sure what else could be such an emphatic hello from beyond the veil than that. I’ll include them below. By: Fr. Darryl Millette, Kelsey Beler, & Luke Hergott.)
So, it is my deep honor to share the song dedicated specifically to him today, called “Living Skies,” as well as announce that the full EP for him, “Living Skies: love you still,” will be available on all streaming sites on October 25th.
I hope you’ll join us all through this song journey of complicated, grieving, joyful affection for Cole, for our shared home, and in honor of all of the pressing, necessary aches that go with lives lived fully and with whole-hearted, courageous love.
“Land of the Living Skies,” they call Saskatchewan and engrave on our license plates.
Living Skies.
May Cole be honored and remembered always, and may healing come to all he has left behind, and may this song be a small part of that honoring, remembering, and healing.
I’ll include the lyrics and song here (clicking the photo will take you to Spotify or you can watch the lyric video below or on YouTube):
Land of the Living Skies
Land of the living skies
Where my heart found its home
Became your farmer’s wife
Got a plot of land, our own
Now your babies growing up so nice
And I still love our personal sunrise
My Saskatchewan man to the very bone, oh,
Why’d you' have to go?
We love you still and we miss you so
But onward we will go
Under our living skies
Man of the living skies
A hero of our age
Tall and strong and kind
Resilient, patient, come what may
Now your babies would make you so proud
And I still listen to our field’s sounds
My Saskatchewan man to the very bone, oh,
Why’d you' have to go?
We love you still and we miss you so
But onward we will go
Under our living skies
You love is your legacy
Your memory, our safety
And you’re always in our hearts
My Saskatchewan man to the very bone, oh,
Why’d you' have to go?
We love you still and we miss you so
But onward we will go
We love you still and we miss you so
Under our living skies
Under our living skies