Monday, October 7, 2013

I am sipping a hot cup of coffee in my favorite cup.  The rain is softly falling, and the hint of changing seasons soaks into the ground.  The tree just out my window seems to be in the midst of a wardrobe change.  The ruby red is peeking through summer's fading green sheath.  I love these Autumn moments.

I would love to skip over the peaks of the Tennessee Appalachians that once were my home.  Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the lovely and lonely dulcimer playing so softly.  There is a sound the trees make on the mountains.  They swish and sway to rhythm of the creek.  The Smoky Mountain mist settles into every bit of carpet moss, and my hair curls just thinking of it.

I should love to run my boys through the trees and wander a trail.  I would like to see the sparkle in their eyes as they stumble upon a little black bear sitting high in the trees.  Their hair would curl too in that Smokey mist.

My uncle used to say the mountain water made my hair red.  Maybe so.  That rocky, Smokey mountain water sort of stays in your bones.  No matter how far away you get, you hear the haunting call to find yourself back home.  

 







Home is in the hills of Tennessee.
B Charmer


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