LONESOME PINE
� Indiana is home.� But there is so much sky!� I feel exposed, insignificant and vulnerable.� I need mountains wrapped around me, and forests and streams.� It's the only time I feel completely safe.� I know that that's probably illogical.� The mountains have rock slides, mud slides, flash floods and forest fires.� Not a problem in my part of the hoosier state.� And in the winter if I slide off of the road, I'll just end up in a cornfield, not halfway down the side of a mountain.� But the fact remains, I may have been raised as a flatlander, but breeding will tell.� My heart belongs in the mountains. But lately when we've headed south, the breathtaking scenery has changed.� Between strip-mining and logging, my mountains are disappearing.� And yes, I know that those industries provide a much needed income� for a hard-pressed people, but once they're gone, they're gone!� There has to be a better way.
This site was set up for all of us displaced mountain folk.
All photos were taken by me or members of my family.
Most of the beautiful poetry was written by my uncle's sister,
Doris Jones Cowen.
Doris is a lifetime resident of Appalachia, Virginia,
and a Distingushed Member of the International Society of Poets.
THE ENTER BUTTON BELOW
Skip's Eagle Nest
