Boone, North Carolina

Like the winter waters, I keep moving with coldness searching for a source to enter. Like the barren mountains stripped of leaves exposed to the wind I feel naked with an emptiness, a melancholy, wishing for the day of spring to cover and protect. Like the winter chill bringing snow and rains I wonder aimlessly with gifts to offer, undesired to anyone because the love has grown cold, jaded, and rigid.


I have not yet made my opinion of these North Carolinian mountains. They are strange to me, but also enticing. With the grandeur of the peaks while streams cascade down she seems mysterious and elusive. However, the weather she calls upon seems ready for revenge for a debt unpaid in the days of old. With vengeance the wind rips through the valley determined to isolate the freeze within every body. The wind demands respect with control able to weaken any creature that acts out of disobedience.

The valley of Boone seems to have me wrapped within her allure puppeting my emotions to the sequence of her movements. My temperament is decided upon her whim. On particularly cold and solemn days I can feel my soul giving into her bitterness. I become reclusive and irritable. I loose patience for my environment and disdain envelopes me to becoming unrecognizably quiet. Then the sun returns revealing his smirking face warming the air beckoning a new tide of hope and renewal. A new surge of patience abounds feeling the strength continue with a stamina of hope acting as my companion.