I feel the magic of childhood and the whispering strength of forests waiting for us. I see miracles incarnate. I hear the stories I tell my children, the stories of their births and how their lives are gifts to us all. I see myself and my parents, grandparents, generations I never knew but whose love and loss are bound into each thread of my being. I see the holler I was born to, as much as I was born to any person—a place and a symbol filled with power and knowledge, comfort and paradox.
