One with the City

The mountains are my backbone and the city is my eyes. My family are natives in this town, long past the generations of grandparents I have known. I’m sure there was a time when my Scottish ancestors were strangers in a strange land, but the familiar Appalachian dialect and smell of fresh rain soaked deciduous underbrush is coursing through my veins. Every time I leave, it isn’t long before my heart begins to ache for Read more…

The First Day

I placed my hands cautiously on the shoulders of the Haitian man sitting in front of me on the moto, who carried my backpack on his front, while Lindsey squeezed behind me onto the seat. Our driver motioned to us where to place our feet and Roody, said something to him in Creole. I think he was telling our driver to go slow. My heart jumped as our fleet of beat up motos started off Read more…