On the radio
I submitted the following piece to the local radio station, WLRH, Sundial Writers Corner. The producer invited me to the studio to record it, and on January 11th it was broadcast. You can find a recording on their website—>HERE.
*MARCH 2022 UPDATE: “Turkey Tracks” has been published in 52 Weeks of Sun:The WLRH 2021 Sundial Writers Project. Available for purchase on Amazon, Huntsville Barnes and Noble, or Huntsville’s independent book store-here
my Instagram story
turkey tracks
I follow turkey tracks where acorns fall and smack, under looming long leaf pines, all along the endless ridge-line.
I came up with that first line while hiking the Pinhoti Trail. Then later, wrapped in my sleeping bag inside a cozy two person tent, I workshopped the rest of the poem under the light of my headlamp.
It became my mantra while on trail. I repeated it over and over, acting as a catalyst to bring myself back to the present. Now, you might think, how could you not be present while actively hiking up and down mountains, crossing streams, and climbing over fallen trees, but when you hike eight plus hours a day, everyday for weeks on end, your mind tends to wander. I daydream to distract myself from the monotony.
But I went to the woods for connection, for challenge, for escapement and didn’t want it to be a blur. So repeating turkey tracks would bring me back to the moment. I’d focus on the flora along the trail, such as the mountain laurel slicks and the evergreen tunnels so thick with rhododendron I had to duck my head to pass through, acting as gatekeepers to the Southern Appalachian mountains. I told myself I must return when they are in bloom to see the whole forest in fuchsia.
I’d stop occasionally and listen to the absolute stillness and quiet of the woods and wonder how far away the nearest human was, feeling as though I had the whole wilderness to myself. Other times I’d halt in my tracks to hear leaves crunching as an animal scurries away in the distance, and depending on how loud the crunching was gave me an indication of how large the animal was. Although most of the time it was just a squirrel making as much of a racket as a doe.
I’d play the game stick or snake? trying to guess what was lying on the trail in the distance, cause roots look mighty similar to snakes laying across the path. But it was almost always a stick. ..The snakes I usually didn’t see until I was just about to step on them.
It is above all else a privilege to be able to escape to the woods. And escape I did. However, the moment I stepped foot on the trail at Flagg Mountain I felt an overwhelming feeling of being right where I was supposed to be, like the feeling of returning home… where acorns fall and smack, under looming long leaf pines.
Pinhoti Trail & Benton MacKaye Trail blogposts HERE
I made a YouTube video of me reading this piece paired with photos from the Pinhoti Trail. Enjoy!