NEW SINGLE BY The Grassy Knoll

"No Rain, No Flowers" out today Friday June 20th, on Bandcamp

Jun 20, 2025

THE STORY

If you open yourself to the universe it will begin to speak to you. Not in grand pronouncements or flashing signs, but in quiet moments, unexpected meetings, and small gestures that leave a lasting mark. All you have to do is pay attention.

Several months ago, I took my mother-in-law to a T-Mobile store here in Baltimore. We had a technical issue to resolve, nothing major, but I braced myself anyway. I’d been to a handful of these stores before, and they rarely left me feeling helped or heard. I expected the usual: rushed service, blank stares, a transactional air.

But this day surprised me.

From the moment we walked in, there was something different. The store felt bright, not just from the overhead lights, but from the people inside. We were greeted by two employees who smiled, listened, and truly seemed to care. It wasn’t the forced politeness of retail, it was something warmer, something real. There was a kind of grace in how they moved through the space, how they interacted with us.

As one of the women was helping us, I noticed a tattoo on her wrist. Curious, I asked what it said.

She turned her arm slightly and smiled.
“No Rain, No Flowers.”

I can’t explain why those words hit me the way they did. Maybe it was the honesty of the moment, or maybe I was just open enough to hear it that day. But it landed deep. Life, in all its messy, miraculous rhythm. The setbacks, the storms, the moments that feel like too much. And then, the flowers. The beauty that only arrives because of what came before it.

I found myself wanting to ask her about her rain, about the flowers that followed. What had she lived through to carry those words so close to her skin? But the moment didn’t need more. The universe had already offered what it came to give.

I thought about the tattoo again while on a vacation, walking through the streets of Reykjavík. Iceland has always felt like a place where I can breathe differently, where the sky stretches wider and the cold carries a certain kind of clarity. My wife and I were wandering the city, taking photos, noting how some corners had changed since our last visit.

As we walked, I saw a stark statue holding vivid red flowers, somber against the cool gray sky. There was something hauntingly beautiful about it. I stood there, letting the air settle around me, and again, I felt the weight of that phrase: No Rain, No Flowers. This statue, silent and elegant, somehow echoed the same sentiment.

THE MUSIC

Lately, I’ve been trying (again) to make ambient music. I love listening to it. The older I get, the more I appreciate its patience, its space, the way it invites reflection. But when I sit down to create it, I find myself restless. I want things to move, to shift, to evolve. I want narrative. Even in stillness, I crave motion.

So here it is, my latest attempt at ambient music, or something like it. It clocks in at 3 minutes and 45 seconds, and despite my best efforts to keep it minimal, it wanted to go somewhere. It wanted to feel like something.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it’s a short story in sound. Or maybe it’s just the way my filters direct the sound. Whatever it is, it’s what I have to offer.

A small flower, after the rain.

REPLAY: