Cry of the Wild comes from an overwhelming urge I had one
day. You see, due to a number of domestic reasons I hadn’t
been North in my canoe for quite a while. Then Fall came,
and I was driving to town to pick up a few things. As I stopped
to make a turn (window open in my truck) a large flock of
Canada Geese took flight from the field of corn beside me.
The sight of the geese, the sound of their wingbeats and encouraging
cries, the smell of the recently harvest field, and the feel
of the crisp fall air filled me with a desire to launch my
canoe on a Northern trip, however short.
It was not to be. However I could dream about it, and just
then the first line of this song jumped into my head. I frantically
scribbled it down on a scrap of paper, and as I drove along
I came up with the first verse. On the way home I worked out
the second verse. Perhaps I compromised road safety, but I’m
awfully glad I did.
I think it may be the most pure thing I ever wrote.
I dream of a wild forest.
It seems to call my name.
So green, it goes forever;
Never settled, never tame.
And there runs wild a river,
So calm along the shore.
It whispers, please come hither.
Come wander me once more.
So when the sun is rising,
Strong to melt the snow,
I gather pack and paddle,
And north away again I go.
And may I find the Wild Forest.
May I find the Quiet Shore.
And if I find they all escape me,
May I search forevermore.
© 1999 by Dave Hadfield