February has left the hills, and no one seems sorry to see her go. She has always been a hard month to endure, leaving behind dirty piles of leftover snow and muddy soil everywhere. Son-in-law Bob calls it a “tweeny” month, stretching between winter and spring, sort of like the month of August
The sun is shining brightly from a deep blue sky on another winter day, although it is cold and frost is lingering on the hills and meadows. It has been an extremely mild winter so far, with patches of green grass in the meadow where the cows still graze.
There is much greenness in the woods even in
Winter has opened February’s door with icy fingers and allowed snow and frigid winds to enter our hills. We shiver under the onslaught of cold wind that lowers our freezing temperatures even lower with a wind chill factor, and we long for warmer weather.
So many songbirds, especially lovely red cardinals
AT MY CABIN DOOR
By Ross David Fortner, Jr.
Howl, mighty Wind,
Breath of winter come, knock upon my cabin door.
Beckon my soul to wander
Upon your mighty gale,
To enter into myself,
And find some solace, real.
Blow around my shuttered window,Rattle every loose latch,Remind me of my mortality,<br
The beginning of a brand new year puts most folks in a reflective mood-pondering over the past year and wondering what the new year has in store for us. After the bright festivities of the Christmas season, the year of 2016 seems to be off to a dismal start. Gray skies and spattering rain greet us
I am back in the old Jenny Lind house of my childhood, and it is almost Christmas time. Waves of memories are washing over me.
It is snowing, and the wind is rising. It howls about the eaves of the house where the icicles hang in crystal spears and creeps in around the window facings. We turn the open
Blue skies and sunshine grace the last of our November days, yet there is a sharp bite in the air that gives the promise of colder weather to come. With its summit bathed in glory, Pilot Knob is a multicolored jewel shining in the sunlight this morning. When the evening sunset sheds its rosy glow
The melancholy days are come,the saddest of the yearWith wailing winds and naked woods,and meadows brown and sere.Heaped in the hollows of the grove,the autumn leaves lie dead,They rustle to the eddying gustand to the rabbit’s tread.The robin and the
Afar on the blue horizon,
The infinite, tender sky,
The ripe, rich tints of the cornfield
And wild geese flying high.
All over upland and lowland,
The charm of the goldenrod,
Some of us call it autumn,
But others call it God.
(In memory of Amma Brown)
Another mild October day, with just a hint
Matthew 5:44-45 “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you. Do good to them that hate you, pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you-“That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for He maketh His sun to shine on the evil and on the good
LIFE-LONG TIES OF FRIENDSHIPMEMORIESBy Frank S. M. SamplesWe are held in wonder as our years have left us old,Of the friendships we have known and the ones we’re blessed to hold.Though the web of years may dim the eye and gray the aging head,We rest well in this
August has been called the bridge from summer to autumn. Well, we’ve crossed over now, and autumn can come in its fullness. It’s worth waiting for–this incomparable season in the West Virginia hills. It’s not only lovely to view, but it must be absorbed. I love it.
I wrote a farewell letter
Summer’s ragged petticoat is showing as we slowly but surely drift toward autumn. Cornstalks are dying and turning brown, while purple ironweed makes its appearance in fields and meadows. The grandchildren are boarding the big yellow school buses, eagerly or reluctantly, bound for institutions of
The evening sun dips below the horizon as another hot and humid day comes to a close. A pink tinge in the western sky is the only reminder that a bright sun ruled over the day, but twilight is closing in, and day is done.
The frantic pace of the day slows, and the strident cries of the daytime creatures
Summer sun is blazing down on our August days, but here and there are definite hints of autumn soon to come. Sprays of goldenrod are beginning to brighten up the road banks with their cheerful yellow, and Joe-Pye weed is blooming. There are many varieties of goldenrod, but my favorite is the sweet
Summer simmers along like the monotonous chirr of a jarfly, but here and there hints of autumn to come are already appearing. I found my first katydid this week, and son Andy says that he and daughter Taylor have been listening to the katydid chorus from their Sand Fork farm. Goldenrod is beginning
The thunderstorms keep coming, the grass keeps growing, the garden is saturated, and still it rains. Some of the vegetables are thriving, such as squash and cucumbers, which like this tropical weather, while our sweet pepper plants have succumbed to the water.
So far we have been able to place our
June’s blue moon shone last night, although at 5 o’clock this morning it was full and orange. Matthew called me outside to look at it, as wispy black clouds floated over the surface and clothed it in eerie shadows. As it sailed away over the horizon, it carried the last vestige of June with it
Summertime weather simmers along as daisies bloom and leaves grow green and full on the trees. The hills surround and envelop us with rich greenery that protect and comfort us. I could never get used to the flatlands that seem to go on forever, but take comfort in the hills of home. I found a poem
I wandered today to the hill, Maggie
To watch the scene below
The creek and the rusty old mill, Maggie
Where we sat in the long, long ago.
The green grove is gone from the hill, Maggie
Where first the daisies sprung
The old rusty mill is still, Maggie
Since you and I were young.
A city so silent and lone
A yellow butterfly hovers over the Persian lilac bush, with its purple blooms swaying in the breeze. Purple and yellow seems to be the color scheme on this lovely spring day, with dandelions and violets vying for attention along the edge of the yard, and winter cress spreading yellow clusters in the
The sun peeped up over Pilot Knob this morning, but was soon obscured by clouds that covered the sky. The air is warm and humid, with thunderstorms threatening to move into our hills. April showers are bringing forth May flowers, with little blue violets showing their faces through the green grass
Warm weather is still hesitating on the threshold of spring, as if debating whether to enter or let winter weather linger a little longer. There is a rumor circulating through the hills that spring is truly coming back. It was first whispered to the songbirds at daybreak, when the first pink rays
The spring songbirds are lifting their voices in praise to their Creator this morning; they have deserted the feeder and are singing from the tree tops. Song of Solomon says it best, “For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone; The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing
Bright sunshine glitters on a snowy landscape, and the sky is bright blue. It is a drastic change from yesterday’s gray, lowering clouds and snow that kept coming. It was a fluffy, soft snow that swiftly covered roads, rooftops and landscape. Birds flocked to the feeder, as if stocking up on