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I feel better today; still some fluid and very sore neck; I can't turn my head to the left.
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Mark emailed me that one of the good guys of music has died; Ronnie James Dio passed away yesterday from stomach cancer. He was simply the best rock/metal singer ever. Dio wasn't a big man in stature, but he was a musical giant with a huge heart and an even larger voice. It is as if one of the last vestiges of my youth has slipped out the door into darkness ...
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Even on a very hazy day like we had Saturday, the view across the Appalachians still managed to cause me to want and need to go deeper and deeper into their mysterious offerings. Every hollow, every knob, every tree and every stream has a story and all I have to do is sit quietly for a few minutes in their presence and their tales will permeate my mind. The trees gossip among themselves while eons-old mossy boulders echo the songs of birds and the buzzing of myriad insects and the fussings of tiny critters. Small, silent seeps from the hills join and transform into laughing creeks as the sky darkens and rumbles threats of rain. Life is difficult but good good in those places, and to one of them I someday shall return so that I may forever be part of the singing birds and the whispering trees and the giggling brooks.
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Worsh day again ... have a good one!
4 comments:
I will be a small bird in your world. Beautiful description and photo. Thank you v. much, my friend.:)
Thanks, Jola.
Your bird song can grace any forest.
There are times it would be nice to be nestled away in a holler with no one around. So peaceful you can forget the world existed.
I've had a lot of those times lately.
Does your dad know you say "holler"!? :-)
Thanks, Mark
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