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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

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The plastic on the windows crinkled, the fire in the furnace flickered, and the room got colder still. Junebug’s black cashmere sweater was soft and warm against her pale skin. The moonshine warmed her from within. The dogs moved closer to the flickering fire and . . . Continue Reading

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Even a year and a half later, I have more thoughts, emotions, and stories from those weeks of immediate storm recovery than I could ever put fully into words. I think a lot about the people I never would have met if the hurricane hadn’t happened. I still have images burned into my brain . . .Continue Reading

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Eventually, I stumbled upon the page of some woman I’ve never met. I think she goes to my papaw’s church or something. I’m not sure, but what caught my attention was this string of bad poems she kept posting.

One read . . . Continue Reading

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As I move my body upon the land
The rhythm of nature flows through my earth.
As my thoughts and words change, the clearer I see
Who I am and how I can be

A strong yet gentle, spiritual warrior

My words sing freedom and power to . . . Continue Reading

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I was still. The wind rumbled just like Thurl Ravenscroft did from my room. A gust of wind blew through the treetops, and all of them let out this baritone groan that made my hands shake. Maybe this was what Grandma was talking about. Maybe . . . Continue Reading

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You only had to tell us once that there were water snakes about. Or that back on terra firma, there was quicksand to look out for. Swinging vines were eager to snap, and adorable bear cubs were sure to be followed by outraged mamas . . . Continue Reading