Scott Ordway - The End of Rain (full book)

THE END OF RAIN

SCOTT ORDWAY

THE END OF RAIN

CONTENTS

xi xiii xv

01

Preface Introduction Text Contributors

PROLOGUE

PART 1. emergency 05 27 45

These are the things we lost in the fire This is what we remember about that day This is what we miss

PART 2. pastoral 63 87 117

These are the crops we grow near our home This is the land we see around us These are the things we used to do

PART 3. requiem 139 155 171

These are the plants that grow where we live This is how the land looks today Sunrise and apotheosis: things will grow back

PREFACE

The End of Rain (2022) is a multimedia project comprised of music, crowdsourced text, landscape photography, and video. It was commissioned by the Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music (Santa Cruz, CA) and features Grammy-winning vocal ensemble Roomful of Teet.

I directly adapted each line of the text from a first-person witness account of drought and fire that I collected in California between March and August, 2021. I gathered these texts through individual interviews, focus groups in the towns of Bonny Doon and Paradise, classroom visits to middle and high schools in Santa Cruz County, and online submissions via a purpose-built website.

In addition, my data set includes the full texts of the Camp Fire Oral History Project, an initiative of the Meriam Library at Cal State Chico which generously granted access to these texts for use in The End of Rain. Together, these sources include contributions from more than 225 individuals and total approximately 80,000 words of firsthand testimony.

I took the accompanying photographs while traveling throughout California to gather the texts. I sought to document the phenomena described in the witness accounts while at the same time celebrating the extraordinary natural beauty of my home state.

This book was published with support from Sempervirens Fund (San Mateo, California), about which more is written at the end of this volume. My work would not have been possible without the contributions of many additional individuals and institutions. I am deeply grateful to my research assistants at Rutgers University, Mateo Urgilés and Kimberlee Sibilia,

without whom this project would have been completely impossible; to Benjamin Krause and Alexander Brusencev for their many insightful comments on drafts of both the musical composition and the book; to Noah Luna at BCP Music for keeping my pages in order; to Allison Weissman and Elizabeth Dworkin at Dworkin & Co. for keeping everything else in order; to Matt Shaffer for his wisdom in the area of communications and public engagement; to the designers in my life, Erica Eliot, Kate Clayton, and Carey Bozarth, for their help with the graphic and user experience design of the text collection website; and to my colleagues and students at Rutgers University whose conversation and input has been invaluable to me in the process of developing this work.

I relied on the generosity of many individuals in order to gather the public input that I used to create the poetic text. In this regard I am profoundly grateful to Kathleen Dysert, David Zink, Allen Myers, Lloyd Roby, Kelley Conner, Judy Clemens, and other artists and community members in Paradise, CA for their openness, generosity, friendship, and willingness to share their stories over a glass or two of wine; to Natalia and Adam Flechsig, Jonah Torres, Christopher Fink, and other community members who fought fires with their bare hands in the Santa Cruz Mountains and who gathered on a sweltering day to share their stories with me; to Stefani Baldivia and the Meriam Library at Cal State University Chico for generously making available the texts of the Camp Fire Oral History Project; and to Alice Hughes of Pacific Collegiate School, Holly Ota and Stacy Aronivici of Aptos High School, Lindsey Eldred of Santa Cruz High School and Mission Hill

Middle School, and their inspiring students who shared what it feels like to come of age in a time of fire.

I am thankful for the trust placed in me by Cristian Măcelaru, Ellen Primack, and the rest of the staff at the Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music, and by Brad Wells and Roomful of Teeth, to undertake such a complex and delicate subject which is so near to all of our hearts.

Lastly, I owe a debt of gratitude to Norm and Joy St. Landau for the use of their “Little House” in Centreville, MD in March 2022, to Mark and Fran Ordway for, among many, many other things, the use of their camper truck for a vital photographic trip in January 2021 when hotels and campgrounds were closed statewide, and to Claire, Sophie, and Nora for their unending love and support.

Scott Ordway Philadelphia, June 2022

xi

xii

INTRODUCTION

Fire and drought have become defining aspects of life in contemporary California. How are these phenomena changing people internally, how are they reshaping communities, and how are they changing the way we look at the landscape? For eighteen months, I traveled widely in California in order to pose these questions to individuals and communities.

Between December 2020 and June 2022, I collected 80,000 words of firsthand witness accounts of fire and drought from 225 Californians in towns and cities throughout the state. I also took thousands of photographs and hundreds of minutes of video. Drawing upon this raw material, I created the text for The End of Rain, the video component of the work, and this volume of landscape photography.

In doing this, I was inspired by the work of journalists, filmmakers, documentary and fine art photographers, and social scientists.

Techniques from these disciplines allowed me to connect my music to one of the most critical concerns of our time by making my work a conduit for the voices and experiences of other people.

Other than writing the brief prologue, changing articles and pronouns for poetic unity (such as I to we), and combining phrases from multiple speakers, none of the words are my own. Instead, my role was largely curatorial. I read the texts, searched them for prevalent or recurring themes, and harmonized complementary passages from different speakers. The poetic structure, I hope, makes this large and unwieldy collection of texts into something more legible. While the crowdsourced material contains a predictably wide range of prose styles and language registers, the final poem is shaped by my own

aesthetic sensibility and therefore shares something with the music and the photography.

When I began collecting the stories and making the images that would become The End of Rain, California was emerging from the horrific 2020 wildfire season, one of the worst in recorded history.

The summers of 2018 and 2017 were similarly destructive, including the Camp Fire in Butte County, the deadliest wildfire in California history. I wanted to understand how individuals and communities related to the landscape around them in this new era of continuous fires and the droughts that precipitate them.

Moreover, I wanted to know how fire and drought were changing us in personal and often hidden ways.

Because my questions concerned collective rather than individual consciousness, it was important that my work include a wide range of voices and that the final product faithfully reflect the things they told me. Whatever poetic strength the text possesses owes to the fact that it is a work of non-fiction. Each line represents one person telling the truth, as they see it, in simple and direct language.

These voices do not speak in unison. Many describe acute experiences of fire or drought. Some lost homes. Others lost loved ones.

Others lost meaningful belongings. They lost longstanding beliefs about the landscape and its capacity to shelter and sustain and inspire them.

At the same time, people gained things: strengthened community bonds, new appreciation for responsible land stewardship, awareness of past mistakes, new hope for the possibility of collective action.

Many people lost little themselves but were impacted in powerful and unseen ways. Lastly, some

told me that they have lost nothing and feel no particular impact. All of these perspectives are essential in order to know the full breadth and complexity of our shared experience.

The people I spoke with held diverse beliefs on the subjects of urban development, environmental policy, land use, and other topics.

Different communities discussed these issues in very different ways.

Often, one recurring theme contradicts another. I have sought to include these divergent voices in the text.

The End of Rain is divided into three parts. Each part contains a list, an observation, and a memory and reflects one predominant recurring theme in the crowdsourced texts. Part 1 focuses on physical descriptions of wildfire.

Part 2 articulates the astonishing beauty and diversity of California’s landscapes. Part 3 is a secular requiem expressing loss, mourning, and remembrance, coupled with a strong urge toward regeneration, rebuilding, and reawakening. Because landscape, identity, memory, and the sense of home are deeply intertwined, these stories about the forest are also stories about our emotional and spiritual lives.

The work ends with two interwoven lines of text which reflect the urgency and complexity of our relationship to fire: “we must change now” and “things will grow back.”

These two statements are both unequivocally true.

Lastly, this work is deeply personal for me. I was born and raised in the Santa Cruz Mountains of Northern California and feel a deep sense of connection to this place.

This music and these images are my attempt to depict and celebrate my own small portion of the vast California experience. xiii

xiv

TEXT CONTRIBUTORS

Natasha Ackerstein Melissa Allison Nicole Anderson Anita Anderson Elizabeth Anderson Dale Attias Febe Avitua Leela Barnett Uma Batish Coreen Bean Don Bean Elizabeth Bernstein Shinehah Bigham Paulina Borsook Charlotte Botha Carey Bozarth Julie Brielle Monica Brinkman Diane Brown Angie Buckner Heather Calame Merribeth Carlson Jayden Cavanagh Nike Cholden Wes Christensen Don Criswell Oriya Rae Davi Matteo Demarco Lee Edward DeMoss Michael Dougan Marilyn Duhamel Debi Durham Kathleen Dysert William F. Carney Dawn Burgess Fedeli Tammy Feinberg Steve Ferchaud Mary Fiore Adam Flechsig Natalia Flechsig Doreen Fogle Savannah Fraley Noelle Francis Thomas Fredericks Jeff Gallagher Richard Dale Gingery Jr. Lilianna Gingery James Glucksman Danielle Glucksman Ally Goetz Denise Gunderson James Hadley Cathy Hales

Greer Hambly David M. Harris Wendy Harrison Pam Hartley Bill Hartley Gail L. Hedlund Dalylah Hernandez Alma Herrera Kathleen Hilger Ava Hillard Mike Hoaglund Sharee Howard Zoë Huet Sally Hugg Alice Hughes Celia Hursey Lynn Janinis John Janinis David Jessen Mary Ann Johnson Hollymae Jones Sarah Jordan Mikala Kaaihue-Laine Rosemary Kanko Judy Kelly Joseph Kelly Jason Laine Emily Landry Mike Larish Steven Leonard Alan Lieberman Amelie Lindberg Carey Livingston Patti Lloyd Maggie Long Jaime Lopez Catherine Marsten Kathryn Mastrangelo Flavian Mastrangelo Carrie Max Steph McCormick Jazmin Alvarez McMahon Martin Medrano Luke Meyer Celia Hursey with Lynn, Kathy, and Nancy Iris Natavidad Isaiah Navarro Barbara Nielsen Garth Nielsen Karen Oakes Fran Ordway Mark Ordway

Jasmin Ortiz Holly Ota Carin Pacifico Anissa Pannell Layla Pasquini Claire Paul Julie Pearson Monia Pezzi Brooklynn Porter Christina Powell Don Primer Zakary Prochaska Laurie Ratterree Cheryl Renwick Michael Renwick Lizzie Reyes Todd Richter Alan Ritch Peggi Rodgers Aindrea Romer Charles Rough Doris Nicole Salazar Makenna Sandidge Walt Scherer Suzanne Schettler Rachel Schleiger Henry Schleiger Julie Silverman Yvette Streeter Kai Tanaka Zuki Tanaka-Kopp Vicki Taylor Maximus Tempesta Jonah Torres Shannan Troxel-Andreas Robert Tucker Meghan Turner Claire Turner Amelia Valoroso Trudy Vaughn Amber Waldo Elle Walters Erin Walters Brad Wells George White Kelly White Arie Wirth-Yap Susan Yost David Zink Lori Zink + Anonymous (72)

xv

PROLOGUE

This is a book about a fire.

Its pages are written in sound.

This is a book about the end of rain.

Its pictures were grown in the ground.

This is a book about our home.

01

02

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

03

04

PART 1: EMERGENCY I. These are the things we lost in the fire

My water I lost all I had left of my husband: My clothing His uniform, My bedding His medals, My birds The flag from his casket.

My letters My music My building My home I lost nothing.

I lost the bed we shared.

My peace of mind My sense of safety My complacency My sense of home

My forest I lost the order of things.

My garden We packed what we could and left.

My clean air My time I saw the birds hang their heads in sorrow.

We packed what we could and left.

My pearl necklace Your artwork I left my house without saying goodbye.

My postcards We packed what we could and left.

My hope I lost the sense that This place is heaven.

The brick walkway The sky The clouds on the walls I lost all of your artwork My clean air Our dogwood My Bible My ash tree Our shade I lost everything.

My peace My sleep My balance My food My forest My garden My clean air My innocence

05

06

Glass Fire (2020)

SANTA ROSA, CALIFORNIA

07

08

Bear Fire (2020)

OROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

09

10

Bear Fire (2020)

OROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

11

12

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

13

14

Tubbs Fire (2017)

SANTA ROSA, CALIFORNIA

15

16

LNU Complex Fire (2020)

MIDDLETOWN, CALIFORNIA

17

18

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

19

20

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

21

22

Bear Fire (2020)

OROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

23

24

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

25

26

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

II. This is what we remember about that day

Ash

Flame

Falling from the sky, like snow.

I remember ash falling like snow and Touching my face.

I could see the fire in the distance: Flames on the cliffs, Houses burning on the hill to the west.

The sky was burning, It was raining embers.

The smell of cinder and flesh: The ash flew up into the earth, and The hills were all black.

I close my eyes and I can still smell it: This mix of wood and metal, Even the bones.

Sky It was never daytime.

Street lights came on in the morning, and The shadows of buildings were blue.

Everything was grey: A permanent sunset, Perpetual dusk.

The sky was yellow and The sun was red.

The wind changed Through burning forest, Catching up to me.

Choking, smoke in my lungs, It was too warm for evening.

I could not sense time.

I clung to my mother on the porch.

My father walked into the fire.

Sleep was over.

I was so scared.

I have a picture of the sky: It was amber at first, It was red like Mars.

The sky was brown and black, The color of rust with a Red glow in the distance.

Day had not come.

It was the end.

It was raining embers.

The sky was on fire.

27

28

Glass Fire (2020)

SANTA ROSA, CALIFORNIA

29

30

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

31

32

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

33

34

Camp Fire (2018)

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

35

36

CZU Lightening Complex Fire (2020)

BONNY DOON, CALIFORNIA

37

38

CZU Lightening Complex Fire (2020)

BONNY DOON, CALIFORNIA

39

40

Walbridge Fire (2020)

GURNEVILLE, CALIFORNIA

41

42

Walbridge Fire (2020)

GURNEVILLE, CALIFORNIA

43

44

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

III. This is what we miss

I used to dream of the mountains.

I used to dream of the trees.

I used to dream of the shade, The wind, The summer.

I miss the beauty, I miss the fog, I miss the full trees.

I miss the shade, I miss the rain, I miss seeing green.

I used to dream of the trees.

I miss the clean air, I miss hide and seek, I miss the forest.

I want to stay here.

45

46

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

47

48

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

49

50

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

51

52

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

53

54

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

55

56

Bear Fire (2020)

OROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

57

58

August Complex Fire (2020)

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

59

60

August Complex Fire (2020)

ELK CREEK, CALIFORNIA

61

62

PART 2: PASTORAL IV. These are the crops we grow near our home

We grow strawberries.

We grow blueberries.

We grow plums and blackberries.

We grow peaches, Nectarines, Apples and pears, Lemons and raspberries, Cherries and oranges.

We grow strawberries.

We grow grapes, and We grow grapes for wine.

We grow artichokes, and Kale, corn, and cabbage, Onions and garlic, and Squash and garlic, and Mushrooms and garlic, and Lettuce and garlic, and…

We grow strawberries.

63

64

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

65

66

INTERLAKEN, CALIFORNIA

67

68

CASTROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

69

70

CASTROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

71

72

CASTROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

73

74

PASO ROBLES, CALIFORNIA

75

76

MONTEREY COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

77

78

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

79

80

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

81

82

PASO ROBLES, CALIFORNIA

83

84

ARROYO GRANDE, CALIFORNIA

85

86

V. This is the land we see around us

We verge on desert, Deep in the valley.

But at the same time, We have this lushness near the river.

These trees, These rocks, These green grasslands, The purple mountains far away.

I used to live in a Shaded forest.

In the garden, I could see the sun set Between the trees.

We have roughness, We have tenderness, We have wild views, and Soft hills, and meadows Above the fog.

We have hills that feel like mountains, with Long grasses, and Mustard flowers in the spring.

I love the closeness of the stars.

We have redwood, Kelp forest, Oak forest, Woods and streams, The fir tree, and The madrone.

I could see the sun set Between the trees.

Rolling hills, Steep mountains, Wildflowers, Solid trees from the mountains to the sea.

I love the closeness of the stars.

87

88

GURNEVILLE, CALIFORNIA

89

90

GURNEVILLE, CALIFORNIA

91

92

SANTA CRUZ, CALIFORNIA

93

94

SANTA CRUZ, CALIFORNIA

95

96

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

97

98

SAN ARDO, CALIFORNIA

99

100

MONTEREY COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

101

102

PISMO BEACH, CALIFORNIA

103

104

MONTEREY COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

105

106

LAKE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

107

108

STONYFORD, CALIFORNIA

109

110

MAXWELL, CALIFORNIA

111

112

BOULDER CREEK, CALIFORNIA

113

114

JENNER, CALIFORNIA

115

116

VI. These are the things we used to do

I walked, one step at a time: I went to school, I went to camp, I watched the animals.

The mist would swirl around my ankles, The tree would sway in the cool breeze, The wasp would crawl from the moss.

I would watch the trees as they were watching me.

We were free.

The mountains, the valleys, The caves, and the rivers were our kingdom.

We were free.

Before the fire: I wrote novels, I sang with my mother, The music rang out from the building on the hill.

There were birthdays, Weddings, Anniversaries, and there was death.

It was a normal life.

I gave birth to my sons.

I watched the snow turn the pine trees white.

I found a sense of place.

I found a sense of peace.

I played with our grandchildren.

I went for walks.

There was water from the rain For the lakes and the rivers.

I tended our vineyard.

I worked in the garden.

It was a normal life.

117

118

SAN LUCAS, CALIFORNIA

119

120

GUADALUPE, CALIFORNIA

121

122

GUADALUPE, CALIFORNIA

123

124

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

125

126

BONNY DOON, CALIFORNIA

127

128

GUADALUPE, CALIFORNIA

129

130

ALPINE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

131

132

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

133

134

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

135

136

NAPA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

137

138

PART 3: REQUIEM VII. These are the plants that grow where we live

We have lilac.

We have primrose.

We have lupine.

We have iris.

We have tulips.

We have poppies.

We have lilies.

We have daisies.

We have wild strawberries.

We have pine trees.

We have redwood.

We have poplar.

We have willow.

We have alder.

We have cedar.

We have dogwood and Douglas fir.

We have aspens that shake in the wind.

We have orange trees and groves.

We have lavender.

We have wallflower.

We have blackberry.

We have raspberry.

We have elderberry.

We have wild hyacinth.

We have ferns and wild roses.

Things will grow back.

139

140

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

141

142

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

143

144

SAN LUIS OBISPO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

145

146

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

147

148

APTOS, CALIFORNIA

149

150

SAN ARDO, CALIFORNIA

151

152

CORRALITOS, CALIFORNIA

WATSONVILLE, CALIFORNIA

153

154

VIII. This is how the land looks today

We need help.

The trail is gone.

Save our house, Save our animals, Save our water, Save our home.

We went up two days later.

Trailers and sheds in the forest: It was all gone.

All the life had gone.

It’s still like that for me.

Green returns Amid the black corpses of trees.

Green sprouting up.

There is life everywhere.

Ash covers the ground Like new snow.

I was homeless: It was abrupt.

It was complete.

It was a wild place.

It was a wasteland, and the Only light came from the fire.

Nature is starting again.

We are healing.

Our family grew.

Things will grow back.

The place where livestock roam Is lush and green, Growing more than before.

The mountains are still In the background and the Fruit trees bloom.

We must change.

We must create.

We must come together.

We must learn the new rules.

We must let go.

155

156

COLUSA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

157

158

SAN ARDO, CALIFORNIA

159

160

PARADISE, CALIFORNIA

161

162

MONTEREY COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

COLUSA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

163

164

LAKE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

165

166

MENDOCINO NATIONAL FOREST

167

168

COLUSA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA

169

170

IX. Sunrise and apotheosis: things will grow back

I woke up with the light of the fire.

— The weather is strange now: The redwood survived.

The weather is strange now: The land has survived.

The weather is strange now: We will survive.

The weather is strange now: The butterflies are coming back.

The weather is strange now: The wind takes the place of the rain.

The seasons have changed.

We must change.

The weather is strange.

Things will grow back.

We must change now.

Things will grow back.

We must create now.

We must change.

We must let go now.

Things will grow back.

Ash covers the ground now.

We must learn the new rules now.

Things will grow back.

Hillside, canyon, Farmland, forest, Redwood, poplar, Our home, our lives: We must change now.

Things will grow back.

171

172

OROVILLE, CALIFORNIA

173

ABOUT THE ARTIST

Scott Ordway (b. 1984) is a composer and multimedia artist from Northern California whose boundary-defying work has been called “exquisite” (The New York Times), “a marvel” (The Philadelphia Inquirer), and “hypnotic” (BBC Music).

Drawing on his deep interest in language and literature, Ordway’s remarkably diverse works fuse music with text (frequently his own), video, digital soundscape, photography, and experimental theater to explore an eclectic array of contemporary, often urgent themes including ecology and landscape, architecture, protest and revolution, and urban life. In recent years, he has focused on the relationship between landscape and culture through a series of large-scale projects that defy easy categorization. His work also explores the intersection of music and literature, with the composer working in English, French, Spanish, and German, and creating adaptations, collages, translations, and original text for music.

Hailed as “an American response to Sibelius” by The Boston Globe and “one of today’s most gifted and thoughtful composers” (Textura), his compositions have been commissioned or performed by the Hong Kong, Buffalo, and Colorado Springs Philharmonics; Tucson Symphony; Hong Kong Arts, Beijing Modern, Bang on a Can, and Aspen Music Festivals; Tanglewood New Fromm Players; Berlin’s Hochschule für Musik Hanns Eisler; Sweden’s Norrbotten NEO; Yale Institute of Sacred Music; The Thirteen; Lorelei Ensemble, SOLI Chamber Ensemble; Jasper,

Momenta, Daedalus, and Arneis String Quartets; University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archeology and Anthropology; Haverford College’s Hurford Center for the Arts and Humanities; and many other renowned ensembles and institutions. His music is recorded on the Acis and Naxos labels.

Ordway’s work is supported by numerous awards, fellowships, and grants from the National Endowment for the Arts, ASCAP, NewMusicUSA, American Composers Orchestra, the Alice M. Ditson Fund of Columbia University, American Music Center, Pennsylvania Council on the Arts, American Composers Forum, and American Opera Projects, where he was a Fellow. A recipient of the Tuttle Creative Residency Award from Haverford College’s Hurford Center for the Arts and Humanities, he has also been invited for residencies at the Visby International Center for Composers (Sweden), Brush Creek Foundation for the Arts (WY), Willapa Bay AiR (WA), and Hambidge Center for Creative Arts & Sciences, where he was a Distinguished Fellow in 2021.

Ordway has degrees from the University of Pennsylvania, University of Oregon, and University of Puget Sound, and also trained at the Freie Universität Berlin and Accademia Chigiana in Siena. His teachers included Samuel Adler, Azio Corghi, David Crumb, Robert Hutchinson, James Primosch, Robert Kyr, Jay Reise, and Anna Weesner. He is Assistant Professor of Music Composition at Rutgers University and previously taught at the Curtis Institute of Music.

ABOUT SEMPERVIRENS FUND

California’s first land trust, Sempervirens Fund’s mission is to protect and permanently preserve redwood (Sequoia sempervirens) forests, wildlife habitat, watersheds, and other important natural and scenic features of California’s Santa Cruz mountains, and to encourage public appreciation and enjoyment of this environment.

Sempervirens Fund is proud to support The End of Rain. We are at a critical crossroads. Climate change is accelerating conditions that distress ecosystems faster than nature can react, recover, respond, and adapt. The voices that emerge in Scott Ordway’s work form a symphony of hope that we can endure, together, and in common cause.

Without this hope, and this shared purpose, we are certainly lost.

And without wild, resilient, and healthy redwoods, we stand to lose essential habitat, our air and water are at risk, and our region will suffer more severe consequences from climate change. We will also lose places where people can go to experience the wonder and inspiration these forests can provide.

Our vision is for vast swaths of redwoods to once again flourish from Silicon Valley to the Pacific Ocean. For redwood forests to thrive in the Santa Cruz Mountains range, we must establish a large, interconnected, and protected network of healthy trees and streams, stretching across public and private lands. We will have succeeded when these forests are wild, enduring, thriving, and treasured.

Redwood forests should support diverse and ecologically rich populations of native plants and animals, so they might endure in the face of a climate crisis and wildfire risks. They also form the critical natural infrastructure that captures carbon, filters air, improves water quality and quantity, reduces erosion, and minimizes flooding.

And our forests should be safe, and welcoming to explore by all people.

Coast redwoods are the enduring sentinels of the Santa Cruz mountains. Protecting them today ensures that they will last for generations to come, protecting wildlife and clean water, and sustaining natural defenses for withstanding climate change. Learn more and help protect redwoods now, forever, for all. sempervirens.org

CREDITS

Published by Scott Ordway Music & Design LLC 1338 East Berks Street Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19125 scottordway.com Copyright 2022 Scott Ordway (BMI).

All rights reserved.

Printed and bound in the USA. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the publisher, except in the context of reviews.

Special thanks to Sempervirens Fund, the Cabrillo Festival of Contemporary Music, Mason Gross School of the Arts—Rutgers University, Andrew Sivak and Bad Animal Books, Thomas Wilder, Erica Eliot, Matt Shaffer, Sara Barth, Beryl Anderson, and Lizzy Shramko Photography, text, and book design Scott Ordway Editor Alexander Brusencev Research assistants Kimberlee Sibilia Mateo Urgilés Printing and binding Conveyor Studio Elmwood Park, NJ