When I saw the title of your post, I thought for sure you were referencing the Beatles song ‘In My Life’ that was released in their 1965 album Rubber Soul. That’s the first line of the song, and it fits your post remarkably well. Excellent writing as always, thanks for sharing your journey with us. It’s tough to leave these ancient mountains and landscapes behind as they grow both on you and in you. And you’re not too far away to come back and visit on occasion.
I am definitely counting on a certain beauty to be in the bleak seasons of life. I just turned 81 today and so far life is still very beautiful.
Thanks for the photos
from AI:
**Spring's Song in the Appalachians**
Amidst the ancient hills, where dogwoods bloom,
And redbuds paint the forest's verdant loom,
The Appalachian Mountains rise with grace,
Their rugged peaks a sanctuary's embrace.
In Floyd, where time moves slow and rivers flow,
The air is sweet with dogwood's fragrant show.
The redbirds sing their melodies on high,
As Spring unfolds her canvas to the sky.
The trilliums emerge, their petals white,
A dance of purity in morning light.
The rhododendrons blush in secret glades,
Their pink and purple hues like whispered serenades.
Beneath the canopy of maple green,
Wild violets carpet mossy paths unseen.
The trill of mountain streams, a soothing balm,
As Springtime weaves her magic, soft and calm.
The fiddle tunes of Appalachia play,
Their notes entwined with blossoms' sweet array.
And in the hush of dawn, the mist ascends,
A veil of dreams where time and beauty blend.
Oh, Floyd! Your hills and hollows sing of Spring,
Where every leaf and bud begins to sing.
In iambic pentameter, let us sway,
And celebrate this season's bright array.
```
🌸🌿🎶
When I saw the title of your post, I thought for sure you were referencing the Beatles song ‘In My Life’ that was released in their 1965 album Rubber Soul. That’s the first line of the song, and it fits your post remarkably well. Excellent writing as always, thanks for sharing your journey with us. It’s tough to leave these ancient mountains and landscapes behind as they grow both on you and in you. And you’re not too far away to come back and visit on occasion.
I now see that it is possible to miss you even though you are not even gone.