Up until I was 8 years old, we would go to our small cottage every summer in the Thousand Islands - not one of the mansions - (we had an outhouse), but we also had a dock and a wonderful view of the St. Lawrence, and of Blueberry Island. It's a very small, longish island than looks like a ship sitting broadside. The prevailing winds forced its trees to mostly grow branches on only one side, and I always thought it looked like a ship. I also always wanted to visit it to see if any blueberries grew there. I loved that cottage and was very sad when my Dad sold it, but c'est la vie. Anyway, I have this wonderful memory to hold on to.
I rushed the recording of this to get it in before FAWM ends. Unfortunately some of the harmonies, especially toward the end are out of synch, and the alto part is too loud at times . . . but I got it in in time.
Words and music by Audrey Kozak 2018
Blueberry Island was small and low,
A forgotten old sailing ship.
All her pines were leaning like masts in a blow,
her sails made of boughs, worn and ripped.
I was too young, at seven to row out, explore and see,
see if blueberries grew in her scruff.
That last summer, through cottage windows the island called,
but her shores, I never did touch
Blueberry Island, your beauty unspoiled,
Take me back to my childhood and your stony soil.
Take me away from the strains of today.
May your memory never fade.
Oh, Blueberry Island, I can still hear your call.
All summer long, how I yearned to discover all her secrets,
All in vain, though I made such a fuss.
That last summer through cottage windows the island called,
but her shores, I never did touch.
Still feel your call.
I still hear your call,