Wayfaring Stranger
Tuesday evening
The rain closed in on the mountain, with a mist hanging thick in the darkness.
Stuck in the workshop of my mind all day, I rattled and rummaged, writing up and looking up, and looking down, and looking down on, and then looking back up.
I started researching Appalachian music, and stumbled onto the history of a people. More on that soon. But in the noise, the notes, the dates, the loose ends and unearned wisdom nearly, but not quite, co-opted, I almost forgot.
It was seventeen years ago tonight when she left us.
What, am I going to try to use words for a thing like this?
Yet, in the mental sawdust of the day, something glimmers. Yes, yes, this will work. Something I found earlier, and didn’t know I needed it yet.
In her memory, I’ll let Mr. Cash play that old song from Appalachia.
She was a fine violin player, you know.
–Josh