When Paul McCartney released “When Winter Comes” in 2020 — closing his self-produced album McCartney III — it felt like time folding in on itself. The song had, in fact, been recorded decades earlier, during the Flaming Pie sessions in 1992, with George Martin at his side. For years, it sat unreleased, a small, unassuming track — until McCartney chose it to close a trilogy that had begun fifty years earlier with McCartney (1970). It was a perfect ending, or perhaps a beginning again: one man, one guitar, one world still worth tending.
At first listen, “When Winter Comes” feels deceptively simple. Just Paul’s gentle acoustic strumming and that unmistakable voice — warm, unhurried, tinged with both age and youth. There’s no grand statement here, no production layers or hidden message. It’s a pastoral reflection, a humble meditation on everyday stewardship: fixing fences, feeding animals, planting seeds, preparing for the season’s change. But beneath the rural imagery lies something far deeper — McCartney’s lifelong philosophy of care.
💬 “When winter comes and food is scarce, we’ll warm the animals in their coats of love…”
In that single line, McCartney captures what so many of his greatest songs have hinted at: that love is not only romantic or artistic, but practical — something lived and done. His words celebrate quiet responsibility, the sacredness of work, and the enduring rhythm between humankind and nature. It’s a sentiment that connects him to his late wife Linda McCartney, whose love for the countryside, animals, and the Earth itself shaped their life together. You can feel her presence in every line, like sunlight flickering through the trees.
Musically, “When Winter Comes” could have been recorded yesterday or fifty years ago — and that’s its magic. McCartney’s fingerpicking recalls Blackbird, while the melody carries echoes of Heart of the Country and Mother Nature’s Son. Yet this song is quieter still — the sound of a man content not to perform, but simply to be. His voice, unadorned, trembles slightly, and that imperfection makes it human, even holy.
When the song was finally released in 2020 — at the end of a year marked by isolation and uncertainty — it resonated like a benediction. In a world desperate for noise and distraction, here was Paul, calm and grounded, reminding us that life’s meaning is often found in the smallest acts: building, planting, caring, staying.
“When winter comes and Christmas is near, I’ll find my love and bring her cheer…”
It’s not nostalgia; it’s continuity. The man who once sang about love as a young dreamer now sings about it as a lifelong companion — quieter, deeper, but just as real.
As the final notes fade, “When Winter Comes” feels like Paul McCartney returning to his truest self: the farmer, the husband, the father, the dreamer who never stopped believing in gentleness. It closes the McCartney III album — and perhaps his trilogy of self-portraits — with profound humility.
Because in the end, this song isn’t just about the changing seasons. It’s about endurance — the simple, steadfast love that keeps the world alive through every winter.
And as McCartney’s voice trails off into silence, you realize: he’s not just singing about his farm. He’s singing about life itself — how to live it, how to care for it, and how to keep its warmth alive.