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All of a sudden there’s a noise high up in the oaks, and a cool wind roars down from the mountains and races up the valley to envelope us. She turns her face to the wind, and her wavy gray hair moves as she smiles and . . . Continue Reading

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Honey Branch, not unlike other parts of rural Appalachia, has a paradoxically bittersweet character. Home to rugged mountains, babbling creeks, thick foliage and various wildlife, the natural beauty and quiet stillness of the holler recall a simpler time. It is only five minutes away from St. Paul, Virginia, a small town whose revitalization has focused on rural tourism like kayaking and ATV trails. To those of us who lived on the branch, though, there is a haunting darkness . . . Continue Reading

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We passed some rushing waterfalls tumbling over rocks as they splashed down the hill. Daddy said that June was the peak season for the rhododendrons that grew wild in the park. As we drove along, the roadside was lined with their pink blossoms and waxy green leaves, and beyond them the lush green hillsides, one after another, becoming blue and then a hazy kind of slate gray as they faded off into the distance . . . Continue Reading