The name comes from a song I wrote a while ago called “Time of Trains.” It told of a time when one was more, as they say, footloose and fancy free (whatever that means). Worry free or relatively so, back when I was just beginning to learn some things about life.
Based on a series of true events, the song details an encounter between a young man and an equally young woman who meet on a train moving through a mountain pass in a foreign country.
Here’s the tune:
Time of Trains, © 2013 Gary White, all rights reserved
The relevant lines read like this:
The tracks hugged a mountain stream
And the scenery seemed to recede
When she spoke of home
In a north country town
I declined to ask her name
I wasn’t much for details
The window ran down rain
And time became those clacking rails
At the song’s close, the stream is evoked again:
My life is a mountain stream
And when I contemplate
The noisy faces and the dirty cities
That compose my downstream fate
I remember her…
A connoisseur of silences
It wasn’t the first song I had ever tried to write, but it was the first I ever finished. I wrote it one night sitting in a corporate apartment in Alexandria, Louisiana. I was working a contract job, living alone there while going through a painful, as they say, divorce. A rough time. The fact that I was able to piece together something as small and insignificant as a song when my life was busy falling to pieces around me meant something.
So, fast-forward to today, and Mountain Stream Media it is and shall be. This enterprise is rooted in life lived out, times gone through, idyllic in one case, bitter in another. Hopefully the art brought forth through Mountain Stream Media will touch equally high highs and low lows, and everything in between. I’m looking forward to finding out what the future will bring.