Nature, Life, Love, and Appalachia
I bundled up this morning in an oversized vintage fleece and a beanie from Alaska to walk Batesville road. Miss Mira trotted ahead with a fierce step. I shivered. The sun cast a false glow of warmth and the red and orange of the maple leaves danced in the cold October breeze. The grass glistened
There is a beauty and a sadness in the shadows cast across the mountains and valley. The shadows glide over the trees and turn the leaves from green to a bluish hue. I learned just recently that Jim Waive suddenly passed away. A local music legend, not many years older than I am. Years ago
The trees that edge the fields and the rolling hills of the Blue Grass Valley are almost fully leafed out. Various shades of tall green blades of grass dance with the breeze. The redwing blackbirds perch atop fence posts and cast their calls down the valley. I love how they respond back and forth to
The first signs of Spring in Batesville bring relief and anticipation. I discover the crocus in bloom along our brick walkway and a smile creeps across my face. The delicate white, purple, and yellow flowers peak out from newly sprouting grass. The splash of color indicates the world will soon burst open with life and
The first snow brings deep silence to the woods. The calls of the cardinal and nuthatch snuffed for a moment as they nuzzle their beaks into their warm nests and wait for the flakes to stop falling. I am warmed by the goose down jacket I wear and socks and a hat made of wool.
The leaves softened by the rain no longer crunch beneath my boots or the soft pads of Merlin’s feet. I walk the path and glance behind me to make sure he is still following us. His grey and white coat fluffed from the cold is easy to spot. I stop to sit upon a fallen
I saw the Northern Lights tinge the sky As you stood by my side on one leg A shared moment with each other The sky ablaze The next day We drank the golden nectar of Apples pressed with our friends and neighbors The foamy juice spilled down our chins As you chopped the apples in
You hick, hillbilly, redneck, yokel, backwoods idiot, poor, shoeless, toothless, dirty, grubby, scum of the earth. I believe my first exposure to the depiction of a hillbilly was a bugs bunny cartoon – Hillbilly Hare. I absolutely loved the square dance scene. My brother and I sat in my grandfather’s basement rolling on the cold
My father was an alcoholic His skin scarred like Bukowski’s A spot remains on the kitchen floor worn smooth by A path to the bottle of ET Every evening He would pour a shot glass Again and Again and Again. On June 8th 2021 I received a call from an unknown number in the middle
It is a breezy day in the Blue Grass Valley. Clouds scrape across the mountain ridges and barn swallows dance above the barn lot. I picked a five gallon bucket full of garden tomatoes and now they glisten on the enameled sink. Hues of orange, pink, and deep red. Stacked neatly beside one another the
Mountain Laurel 