The Forest Choir

“Now I’m sitting here before the fire the empty room, the forest choir…” from Caledonia by Dougie Maclean

I understand. I’ve been there and the peace is addictive. In my youth in upper East Tennessee I would sit in our living room at a cabin we had at South Holston Lake and be enfolded in the quiet sounds of nature.

The cabin was well off the worn path of “civilization”. A car might pass on the street where the cabin sat, but that was rare. The muted sound of children playing a street over would add ambience to a summer day. Mostly though it was the sound of a gentle wind caressing the leaves, every once and again a squirrel on the roof, the serene rain and bird song. The “forest choir” as Maclean writes.

These were times of soul-soothing peace for me. Human troubles were banished and allowed no entrance. The social and scholastic demands placed on teenagers would wait until an automobile would ferry me to them for they did not follow me here..

I wasn’t a hermit. I had friends and a handful of really good ones. I was content with my social situation. Truth be told though, I was deeply in love with the forest in which I was sheltered. I am still in love with the forests of the Blue Ridge Mountains.


© 2011, Bruce Denton. All rights reserved.

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