Am I home?


Bird Droppings June 3, 2012

Am I home?

 

It is a new morning; a cool morning for June yet the warmth of summer will soon overcome the welcome of the morning according to the weather. I walked out on a back porch with silence in the darkness save for the friendly chirp of crickets and peep of tree frogs echoing through the morning stillness. Off in the woods to the side of the house a few barks from coyotes and a howl perking my westie’s ears up. Overhead through the clouds and humidity a few stars crept through the leaves and pine needles, and few blips of fireflies produced an eerie effect as I rub the sleep from my eyes. As I stood there listening and pondering, I wondered if I am home.

 

“As I look over rugged mountain ranges I don’t wonder what inspired our ancestors to brave unfamiliar territory and many dangers to get here. They sought a place to live where they could do as they darn well pleased.  Solitude is a small price to pay for independence and freedom.” Barbara Woodall, It’s not my Mountain Anymore

 

            Last summer while attending a course in Mountain City Georgia on the Foxfire property on the side of Black Rock Mountain I had an idea of why not get teachers to be of Foxfire and former students together for dinner. I contacted through Facebook several folks I had been in communication with who lived near the area and we gathered for dinner. Laurie asked if she could bring a friend another Foxfire graduate. We got together eight teachers to be myself and a professor from Piedmont College and talked about the impact of this type of teaching. By chance Laurie’s friend Barbara Woodall was in the process of publishing her first book, It’s not my mountain anymore. Barbara is quite a character and her stories of trips to New York as a Foxfire student and California amazed everyone. Dr. Smith who had been with the high school program early on had not even heard some of these.

            As the evening developed and discussion wound down I found Barbara inviting me to a book signing up in a gap in the mountains in an old grist mill now restored as a home. I was able to go and listened as she explained at her book signing why she wrote the book. Her writing was of a place that was home for so many generations that was being changed ever so rapidly. I left that day intent on reading my new book which I did in one sitting. It is a book about what is home and how we see that entity. I do recommend if you get a chance well worth the read.  

It has been a quite a few years since I felt that way having lived in a house I built, raised my children and numerous pets in for over twenty years. A place where my favorite dog passed away and I could sit with no one near if I chose to play my southern rock music loud. But I pondered deeper as I thought am I home now? Occasionally a car at 4:00 AM can still be heard out on the highway a mile or so from the house, perhaps someone going to work or coming from play. But the stillness of the back yard and silence of the trees makes me think perhaps I am home.

My children all grown up and only one is asleep inside and my new dog is resting growing bored with me staring into the night and listening to sounds that irritate his ears especially the yips and barks of the coyotes, although a low flying firefly catches her eye. I sit down to read and write and see a small book, How can one sell the air? It is a translation of a speech given by Chief Seattle many years ago and sits by my computer.

 

“Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.” Chief Seattle

 

Where is home I wonder as I go deeper into my questioning? For many it is only a place where we rest eat our meals and tend to the chores of daily life. As I look thorough this simple book it is where our ancestors have been buried and where the pathways are worn by our feet and air been breathed and re-breathed by our children’s children that is where home is according to Chief Seattle. I wonder am I home? Please keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your hearts and to always give thanks.

namaste

bird

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s