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Frog Pond Sunday Social at Blue Moon Farm | Gulf Coast Music
By Meredith Folger Amon | November 19, 2025
Last Sunday, beneath a towering cedar at Blue Moon Farm, the world seemed to narrow to one clearing, one modest wooden stage, and the low murmur of voices finding their places. I walked in with my dear friends Sandy and Glenda, slipping through the gate with my hands already full; copies of Coastal Lifestyle Magazine featuring my new Frog Pond article tucked under one arm and a few Southern comforts in the other—as the three of us eased into the crowd.
The lawn had become a patchwork of quilts, camp chairs, and wide brims angled toward the stage, but we never truly settled in one spot, drifting instead from conversation to conversation, greeting old friends, meeting new ones, and carrying with us the easy gratitude that followed us up from Orange Beach as we talked about music, the turns life takes, and how fortunate we are to call the Gulf Coast home.
The stage tucked beneath the big cedar tree felt like its own little world, ferns spilling over the edges of the deck and wrapping the musicians in green. Slow woodsmoke drifted from nearby fire pits while chandeliers filled with candles glowed above the crowd, casting a soft, flickering light over the music and the listening lawn.
I had spoken with Cathe Steele before, over messages and phone calls, but this was the first time I actually met her in person. She was exactly what I expected and more—warm, grounded, and completely present. Cathe moved through the crowd like the hostess of an old Southern home, greeting people by name, introducing strangers as if they had known each other for years, and quietly making sure every detail felt just right. When she hugged my neck, it felt less like meeting someone new and more like seeing an old friend.
Owner, Cathe Steele is pictured above
Even the dogs seemed to understand that this place was meant to be shared. A few sweet farm dogs trotted around the edges of the crowd, sniffing picnic baskets, leaning into outstretched hands, and greeting attendees like they were coming home rather than arriving at a concert. One of them settled at my feet for a while, sighed, and closed his eyes as the first chord rang out. It felt like the truest seal of approval.
On stage, Grayson Capps settled in with that familiar, weathered ease, guitar resting against his knee like a story he was about to tell. Beside him, Corky Hughes eased through his tuning, slipping from one guitar to the next with an unhurried, deep-in-the-bone Southern ease that made every note feel like it landed exactly where it was meant to be. Kristy Lee took her place with that unmistakable presence and powerhouse voice, and Australian duo The Hussy Hicks rounded out the circle, bringing their own coastal energy from the other side of the world. Another musician joined alongside them, adding a fabulous rhythm and vibe that threaded through every song. It was such an amazing combination of talent gathered underneath that cedar tree.
I loved the small details: some of the musicians wore worn-in boots and sturdy shoes, dust from a dozen stages caught in the seams. Others got down to their roots and went barefoot, toes curling over the edges of the rugs layered across the stage, as if they needed to feel the boards under them to truly lock into the groove. The whole scene felt loose and free—part revival, part back-porch picking circle.
The first song rolled out slow and warm, like the tide easing in over a sandbar. Grayson’s voice carried that mix of gravel and warmth, rough-edged yet beautifully harmonious and soothing in a way that feels uniquely Deep South. A woman in front of me whispered to her friend, “Nobody tells the truth in a song the way he does,” and then they both fell silent again, eyes fixed on the stage.
Corky’s guitar lines threaded through the melody, bending and shimmering in all the right places. At one point he took a solo so clean and soulful that the entire audience seemed to exhale at once. Somewhere near the back, someone said under their breath, “Lord, that is something else,” and it sounded less like a compliment and more like a benediction. Hughes was a quiet force all afternoon—moving between guitar and bass with a calm, steady grace that stitched the whole set together.
Photographer, Chad Edwards with MCE Photography is pictured above with Meredith Folger Amon
I had the pleasure of meeting up with my friend Chad Edwards of MCE Photography, a talented photographer with an eye for moments most of us only feel but never quite see. Chad stood off to the side at times, quietly framing shots of the musicians, the cedar tree, and the crowd in their folding chairs. Later, we talked about how rare it is to find a place where the music, the light, and the people all seem to agree with each other. “The Frog Pond is one of those spots, It just lines up.” Watching him work, I knew his photos would tell a story in a way words never fully can.
Owner, Cathe Steele is pictured above with Meredith Folger Amon
All around us, the crowd felt like its own living thing—a mix of neighbors, longtime fans, and first-timers who already knew they would be back.
There was a quiet moment near the end of the set when the band slid into a slower tune. The breeze picked up, rustling the cedar boughs, and the lights strung along the stage began to glow against the softening sky. A train horn sounded somewhere off in the distance. Grayson leaned into the microphone and sang about going home, about rivers and second chances, and something in my chest tugged in that familiar way.
Driving back toward the Gulf, red clay dust still clinging to my boots, I kept thinking how blessed I am to live on the Gulf Coast—close enough to spend my workdays helping people find homes in places like Orange Beach and Ono Island, and my Sundays wrapped in songs under an old cedar tree in Silverhill. To top off an amazing Sunday afternoon, we were able to meet some beautiful animals on the drive home—goats, horses, camels, and more, gathered in a pasture under a watercolor sky. It was the perfect ending to a storybook story.
I often state that coastal living is about more than the water and the sand. It is evenings like this one at the Frog Pond Sunday Social, where world-class music unfolds just a few feet from your lawn chair, and the South talks back through every chord.
Visit the Frog Pond's website for upcoming shows and details.
https://thefrogpondatbluemoonfarm.com/
If you want to explore more about these artists:
Corky Hughes – Guitar, Lap Steel, Bass
Kristy Lee-musician
www.hussyhicks.com
www.graysoncapps.com
