Nature, Life, Love, and Appalachia
The steep incline of the trail leaves me short of breath. I pull a sassafras leaf and rub it between my fingers. The pungent aroma brings calm and memories to the surface. My grandfather taught me how to identify the sassafras tree. We would walk the woods together in Highland and he pointed out the
Certain dates arrive on the calendar that I dread. The anniversary of my father’s death – February 8th. August 18th – the date his brain tumor was discovered. June 28th – his date of birth. On June 28th of this year I lay in the old porch swing on the front porch of the farm
Camping in a tent in the upper nineties is not for the faint of heart. In reality anyone with any common sense would not do it, but sometimes a little discomfort leads to something amazing. I bought tickets for the Red Wing Roots festival in February. The haze of the cold of winter and the
What has the loss of both my parents really meant to me? Well truly what is most meaningful for me was being there for them. I for the first time experienced in my adult life a world without a focus on a high stress job, but instead an intense focus on what is truly important.
I celebrated my 46th birthday in Monterey, California. To be surrounded by family was a such a treat. Ben’s parents, his brother and wife, as well as my brother and his partner, and my nephew all sang me happy birthday. Willie the dog was there too. My mother-in-law baked a delicious and incredibly time consuming
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick, Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars. – Walt Whitman My AP English teacher gave me Leaves of Grass as a gift when I was
My father shared his love of the Appalachian mountains and all the beauty of the natural world surrounding us constantly. He said we lived in the most beautiful place in the world. As a young adult he and I would drive the mountain roads together and gather morel mushrooms, we picked water lettuce, and he
My husband and I walk the trails in our woods often. They are smoothed by our footsteps and the rain. Last night I wasn’t feeling like making the trek. I was tired, but happy from volunteering at the Blue Ridge Area Food Bank. I felt extremely overwhelmed by the number of emails and requests that
I am nearing the end of Knife by Salman Rushdie. There is a passage in the book that continues to return to my thoughts. It captures the moment when Rushdie determines that it is time for him to look at the man in the mirror “mirror man”. He peers at the deep gashes crossing his
I wrote this poem after visiting with close friends in the mountains of Highland County (where I was born). We drove along ice covered roads to a valley where magic and mystery is forever present. It is the setting where my parents first met…a tributary of the river called Laurel Fork where my husband and
Mountain Laurel 