These are early, early, early songs.
When I was in college, my dad gave me a guitar for Christmas one year. I found a 1959 Mel Bay book of chords and taught myself to play as many as I could.
I’d sit in my room for long stretches at a time, just playing chords back and forth and back and forth. Tiresome for anyone in the next room, but in my mind it was lightning - color, topography, sunny days and rain, a language I could almost understand - little miracles happening over and over again, changing the molecules in the air around me. I’d hum to myself, sing gibberish and play with words. All I wanted to do was make songs.