Chapter One: A pine cone fell.

In one way or the other, my life is inextricably linked to pine trees and small towns. Some see it differently, but I've always thought those two things to be positives in my life. I always will. The confluence of the two have made me who I am. There are stories of both that are at the same time legendary, hilarious, despicable, depressing and triumphant. I hope to tell them all here and expound upon my observations on walking the path of life that chose me as I never really had a choice in the thing.

 

I have come to know and love old trees and old souls. I have walked along sunny pine ridges punctuated by the morning sun and in deep swamps shrouded in fog and low hanging shadows and Spanish moss - both literally and figuratively. The ground I have tread in life has been about as varied as you can imagine. I have learned from every step and misstep along the way.

I was dealt a fortunate hand on the day I was born. I was born to parents and grandparents who loved me and gave me opportunities in life that I didn’t deserve but for which I am eternally grateful. They taught me to appreciate things in life which I hope to write about. I want to point out the goodness in the lives and the stories and to make sure what I have learned doesn’t die with me. As a childhood bystander, I came to value people and to listen to their stories. Every person has a story and some of the best are from those that you will never hear about unless you live among the people I have known. The tales are varied but each one is unique. I hope I can do them justice. They deserve it. Stories like this are just as big as any other, they just need to be told.

I hope you enjoy what I put out there. It is a pleasure to be able to write it. All of it is from my perspective of growing up under tall Georgia pines.