I assume “Scarborough Fair” is an old melody, though it’s sometimes hard to distinguish what’s echt and what’s ersatz in the matter of “traditional” airs.  Simon and Garfunkle did a defining version of the song for my generation. I like to hum the melody and chord it on guitar, but I’ve contrived words to it that are closer to my own experience. 

They evoke my grandmother’s tales of the rigors and sweetness of ranch life. She was a tough, sentimental woman with a knack for storytelling. Ranching between the Wars in Chihuahuan Desert country of a county bigger than Connecticut was no picnic. A thousand-and-one mishaps could befall a lone rancher riding fence (looking for breaches), checking watering holes, locating strays, etc.

Grandmother had responded to a number of crises in her day. Her dread of a horse returning riderless to the house impressed me. Mounted or not, a seasoned work horse would make its way back to the barn from even the furthest pasture, which was by way of being a distress call of its own devising, triggering an anxious search for the rider. Old Blue was the tallest peak on the family ranch in the Glass Mountains.

***

Are You Riding the Strawberry Roan?
(To the tune of “Scarborough Fair”)

Are you riding the strawberry roan?
Grass is green at the foot of Old Blue.
If you are tired, dear, give her some rein,
Old roan horse, she’ll know what to do.

Fence mending’s done and the shadows are long,
Creek’s running fresh at the foot of Old Blue.
Tarry a spell there in mourning dove song,
A sip of sweet water is nought but her due.

(Instrumental bridge — where I pick-and-canoodle something resembling an instrumental solo)

The ranchwoman gazes where last she did see
Her husband amounted set out for Old Blue:
Dear, if you’re not able to come home to me,
The old roan horse, she’ll know what to do.

(c) 2024 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved