Think of songs you may know: Where Have All the Flowers Gone, We Shall Overcome, The Coming of the Roads, Plane Wreck at Los Gatos. The first frames questions about war and sacrifice in terms both gentle and direct, the second is a gospel song adapted to civil rights and other causes, the third is a story about greed displacing people and landscape, the fourth a ballad which frames questions about identity and compassion in a news story about migrant farm workers. 

Connection with place, with landscape, with well-loved and familiar things often comes with connection with each other. That's an idea we've explored from several perspectives in this series. In shifting times, physical place, whether you are present geographically or you are visiting through imagination or through memory, can offer a sense of comfort, of connection, of hope.

Light to dark and back again, times and news and stories shift. Music for Shifting Times is what we decided to call this series about music. It proved more prescient than we could have known back when we began.

What lights the path, where and how to draw strength when darkness closes in and challenges rise is one of the ideas that is a constant in what I share with you.

A conversation with a friend, a passing exchange with a stranger, a favorite show, an article in a magazine or a headline in a newspaper, a window display, a note in a journal, a sketch on a napkin, a photograph, a book, a song: these are all stories, all ways in which we organize, create, and remember our days, and our lives.

How we tell these stories, to ourselves and to each other, shapes and shares perspectives on the world. In shifting times, especially, it is important to think about such perspectives and ways we share and shape them.

Early summer: it's often a season of weddings, graduations, changes, endings, new beginnings. The shifting world situations which were at the beginnings of this series of articles continue to evolve and present their own challenges, too. With those things in mind, here are five pieces of music to spark and accompany reflection, contemplation, celebration, and hope.

In time when politics ideas, understandings, and communications shift, it is challenging to find touchstones,signposts, if you will, to guide decisions. The sort of music we share in this series -- a series which is, after all, called music for shifting times -- can offer guidance and space for reflection. In this story, there are artists from New England, New Zealand, Scotland, Ireland, and Indiana.

There are threads which pull through, and ideas which resonate across the very different stories they tell.

Perhaps you have made journeys and travels in landscape which you planned and looked forward to. Perhaps there have been other travels which you've made not so willingly. At times, it may feel as though things are moving even when, geographically, that is not so for you. There are, too, events which spark changes and journeys in imagination, thought, and questions. All this is part of the reason we chose to call this series music for shifting times.  

Making sense of the shifts and changes in the world has always been one of the roles of music. This might by songs which teach; it could be through songs which offer escape. Maybe there a tune which gets people dancing together; perhaps there's an uplifting song which opens doors to community, perhaps it is a piece that expresses grief, or joy, or understanding which can be shared as the music is performed and heard. Events change, but the role of music continues on. 

Music for shifting times: that is what we've called this series. Part of the idea behind the music shared with you in the series is to guide you to music which may help you think about or live through the unexpected, disconcerting, strange -- choose your own more emphatic adjective if you like -- situations facing the world. 

Winter. It is a time, at the turning of the year, for looking back, and looking forward. It is a time for silence and solitude, for gathering in community and sharing with friends, as well.  

Harsh weather sometimes comes along; at this writing, harsh political and social situations abound. Yet there is, there can be, hope. That may be found in the solitude and in the community the turning of the year invites.