The story behind the song
The love that does not perform
There is a version of love that needs an audience. Easy as Spring is not that kind.
I wrote this one for the mornings when nothing needs to happen. The coffee going cold because you got lost talking. The drive with no destination. The Saturday afternoon where the best thing on offer is sitting on a rock by the ocean with a sandwich, wind in your hair, and absolutely nothing to say that has not already been said a hundred times.
That is the love I was trying to write about. The kind that does not perform.
The coastal setting
We have a spot. Rocks above the water, salt air, you can hear the ocean doing its thing. We do not go there to mark occasions. We go there because sometimes you just need to sit somewhere that does not ask anything of you.
The bell flowers that bloom in the afternoon heat, the spring grasses turning green, the smell of the season coming in. That is all real. Australian spring is a particular kind of beautiful, and I wanted the song to smell like it.
Two voices, one truth
Two voices trading verses felt right for this one. The song is about two people who genuinely allow each other to be, so it made sense to give each person their own space in the song, then bring them together for the chorus.
“I let you dream, you let me be / No pushing, no proving, just you and me.”
That is the whole thing, really. The chorus says it all. Love that gives room. Love that does not shrink you or shape you or require you to perform a version of yourself that is not quite real.
When you have nothing to prove, everything else becomes simple. That is what easy love actually is. Not the absence of effort, just the absence of pretence.
Listen to “Easy as spring” from the album In the fog.
