My Life in the Kentucky Mountains

Morning and evening like clockwork thick fogs rolled in. They started like mist snaking up the hollers and continued until every aspect of the landscape hid within white swirling shrouds.

That "cold Kentucky rain" made famous in the Elvis song also created fogs that rose up from the forest floor like a comforting, antediluvian spectre. Rain in the Kentucky mountains was always a welcome event for me.

Whenever time and circumstance allowed, I made my way outside to see the fog, feel wet mist on my face, smell the fragrance of primordial forest, experience the mystery of it.

One of the things I miss most about the mountains of Kentucky is the daily fogs.

I've read that the Appalachians are among the oldest mountains in the world. Time, wind, and weather have worn them down to a fraction of what they once were.

Just before we reached Big Hill Mountain, as Kentucky Highway 421 took us home to Jackson County, I knew we were nearing our destination when Round Top came into view. In the distance beyond Round Top I could see the Kentucky Knob country. No matter how often we passed Round Top, my husband told about his childhood days of trekking to the top with his brothers and friends. In those days there was a lake on top surrounded by woods. Could it have been the remnant of an ancient volcano?

No matter where you go in Jackson County, you'll be in or near the Daniel Boone National Forest. It covers thousands of acres of several Kentucky counties, including Jackson.

In my job as a Home Health Nurse, I saw patients who lived inside the forest perimeters. These were families whose homes pre-existed by generations the designation of national forest. I piloted my car along gravel roads that wound through the forest proper, and through rutted logging paths where the sounds of modern life were silenced.

Deep woods have a unique life and sound. An occasional breeze stirs through leaves and branches. Birds sing and flit freely though the forest canopy. Squirrels chitter and play up trunks and along limbs. Distant highway sounds and human voices cannot penetrate there, deep in the forest.

Hidden within the forest's rugged terrain are creeks and cliffs, huge mossy rock formations, and massive fallen trees from eons past. I used to think what a wonderment it would be if tourists from the inner city could spend time in such silent beauty.

You can't appreciate the true treasures of the Kentucky mountains by driving through on paved roads. Off the beaten paths are gifts to the senses, unexpected and stunning.

My descriptive ramblings are inadequate. Pictures are inadequate. You have to see, hear, and smell the wonders for yourself.

I loved to sit on my porch at our home in Kerby Knob and watch the sun come up. One cold winter day I bundled up in a warm sweater and savored my morning coffee at sunrise. Dawn seeped into the sky behind leafless trees on a ridge across the road from our house. My day started with a special blessing that morning.

At first the sky turned dark purple, then violet, and finally the vibrant rose you see in the picture.

Everyone who visited us at our home in Jackson County got a tour of the area.
I saw Home Health patients on Hisel Mountain so knew our visitors from the Great Plains would find this view impressive.

Such forest and mountain vistas are commonplace in the Kentucky mountains, but I don't think the heart and mind ever gets bored with the sights.

One suppertime in late October, my husband came in from the yard and told me to bring the camera, and to hurry. The day had been humid and still, as if a storm was brewing.

We both rushed to the back yard. Behind an old walnut tree, this rainbow arched from knob to knob across a stormy sky that glowed eerily in the setting sun.