On Tuesday night, I updated my tracking log where I mark which Smoky Mountain trails I have completed as part of my journey to hike them all. I have just over 200 miles left to go and close to 600 miles finished. I haven’t been the greatest about documenting each of the trips up to … More Trail Song 1: Wet Bottom, Cooper Road, Beard Cane, & Ace Gap Trails (16.3 miles)
On March 1, 2021, I sat in my car outside the Sevier County Health Department for the required 15 minutes to ensure I didn’t have an allergic reaction to the Covid-19 vaccine a woman had just injected into my arm. My eyes brimmed with tears—after so much time isolated in a town that still felt new to me … More January/February: Isolation/Belonging
On the first evening of the new year, my friend Steph and I crouched on the cold concrete floor of my garage with hammers in hand. Small metal rings were scattered before us, along with metal stamps of the alphabet. We’d spent the prior hours journaling about our intentions for the year ahead and distilling … More An Introduction to Routine
“That morning, my understanding of listening expanded and I was reshaped yet again. It sounds simple and obvious but it takes time to listen; time for the deeper things to show themselves. Just as we can’t see all the phases of the moon on any one night, we can’t hear the phases of truth or … More An Everglades Return
I sat on my new balcony patio, still in pajamas, sipping coffee in the warmth of the rising sun. I read a book by a woman who had set out to write a scholarly account of two Wyoming botanists. As she followed the research, her writing morphed into a memoir of plants and place. This is how it goes, it seems, when we allow our thinking minds to slowly cede back to our open hearts. Who knows where we’ll end up, where we’ll return, what wisdom we’ll find in the flora. … More Fresh Starts to Fresh Starts
We weren’t the same people when we finally met again. The distance, the stillness had changed us. It was good to see you calm and coming back to life. I knew you needed a break from the constant social pressure, regardless of how much I ached to say. When we met again, it was indeed … More Dear Smoky Mountains—
I walked up to the front door of the little country house, breathing in the calm of the surrounding farmland and mountains. Thirty minutes prior I’d been in the bustling little city of Asheville, my latest hometown, cars zipping down Merrimon Avenue with little respect for life. Arriving here felt like home. I knocked on … More Stories Around the Table
A salty tear slips from my cheek and drops to find its long-lost home back in the salty sea. A wave pummels its way up the sandy shore and knocks me in the legs. I stumble and splash—and I laugh. And that laughter, this sudden sensation of joy then melts into a softened heart. “This, … More Ocean Meditation
For whatever reason, there are certain memories that stick with you. The details may become fuzzy as the years pass by, but there’s usually some defining moment within the memory that ties you to it. I remember being in elementary school, rollerblading in circles in our garage, and having a moment where I thought, “If … More Kindness for Unkindness
Writing is a practice that requires presence. Presence is something that has felt exceedingly fragile to me in the past year. During this time, I’ve ached to write. Story ideas have swum around in my head. Yet, I’ve lacked the presence to sit with them and turn them into words. Everywhere I travel, I carry … More Writing about Not Writing
ROUGH OUTLINES 