Appalachia in the Wintertime

(*disclaimer: I am aware that technically, it is still fall.  Maybe when we start getting snow and ice here I'll do another post- entitled "Appalachia in the REAL Wintertime")

Although I have spent a significant amount of time in Appalachia, seeing these beautiful mountains in seasons other than summer has been eye opening.  I guess I had subconsciously assumed it just looked the same all year round... green everywhere.  I loved seeing the leaves change color this fall, and then they one by one dropped to the ground.  Once they were all gone, at first, I hated the way the mountains looked, so gray and boring.  But then I began to look closer.  And since I've gone on several hikes lately, I've had a chance to take a good look at what Appalachia looks like in the winter.

One of the most striking things to me is to look at where the mountain meets the sky.  (Is that still considered a horizon?)  You can look at the trees on the top of the mountain and see every individual branch as the light shines through.  I've tried to take a picture, but the camera on my phone doesn't even come close to capturing the complexity.  (Someone with an awesome camera and photography skills, come visit!)

My roommate and I did some day-tripping around Eastern Kentucky this past Saturday, and during our travels ended up in a conversation with an artist of many talents- Tom Whitaker.  As we listened to his stories and views on life, one of the things that struck me was his comment about the trees.  My paraphrasing probably won't do his words justice, however I will try: Have you ever looked at the trees in the winter?  You start to see humans in them.  Their arms and legs and faces and hips.  Just listening to this amazing character of a man was quite possibly my favorite thing I've done since moving here.

More of the things I've noticed...

1. I notice the evergreen trees so much more now.  They are easy to spot (since they are the only trees with leaves) and I like looking at the different mountains and seeing how the types of trees on each one differ.

2. The kudzu has died.  I'm so used to seeing it cover everything.  Even though the brown leaves are around, they have shriveled up some, and are starting to reveal the mysteries formerly hidden beneath the blanket of kudzu.

3. The days here seem shorter than they were back home in the winter.  I feel like I'm living the song "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive."  (fun fact: Harlan is only about an hour away from me)  One of the lines of the chorus says "where the sun comes up/ about ten in the mornin'/ and the sun goes down/ about three in the day."  I overhead a conversation the other day about a man who grew up here in Hazard, and then moved elsewhere, somewhere much more flat.  He was amazed that when the sun went down in his new home, it really got dark.  As opposed to what he was used to, where the sun would slip down below the mountains, but light would linger long after until the sun truly set.