In Memory of David Crosby: The Perils of Listening to Folk Music

WC has struggled with a memorial to David Crosby, former member of the Mugwumps, the Byrds, Crosby, Stills & Nash (and Young), and half a dozen or more ephemeral one-offs. And a solo artist, after he had pissed off everyone he had worked with earlier. He was an exceptionally talented musician and songwriter, who was more abrasive than a whole case of Comet™ cleanser. Crosby died last week after a long illness.

In the end, it came down to this earlier September 2021 post, having a little fun with a song that The Byrds, with Crosby singing lead, helped to make famous.

You see, WC was listening to a folk music playlist a few days ago. It’s responsible for the original blog post. You can, as you choose, blame the Bible, specifically the first eight verses of the third chapter of the Book of Ecclesiastes; or the late Pete Seeger; or The Byrds, whose cover was on WC’s playlist. Or David Crosby. O,r better still, WC.

To everything,

Antarctic Terns, Ushaia, Argentina
Forster’s Tern, Galveston Bay, Texas
Sandwich Tern, Galveston Bay, Texas

There is a season

Royal Tern, Florida
Arctic Tern, Tangle Lakes, Alaska
Black Tern, Centennial Marsh, Idaho

And a

Home Grown Thyme, 2021 Crop

To every

Okay, a Risso’s Dolphin and not a porpoise, but you get it


Heavens, as seen from McCall, Idaho

WC’s apologies to everyone involved. And thanks for the great tunes, David Crosby.

Yes, all of the photos are by WC.

Okay, here’s the Byrd’s version:

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