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Ramblin’ Rose? Ramblin’ Rhododendron

Physically, geographically, Appalachia is a place. More than a place, it’s an essence, a way of experiencing life that can be so deep in your bones that no matter where you’ve been—what has shifted and shaped you over time—you persistently find it in your core.

My guiding and simplest memories are tied to home; the simplicity grounds me over and over again. It’s something I yearn for and follow when the complicated parts of living prevail.

Growing up I daydreamed of being a ramblin’ rose: unfazed, carrying and throwing my troubles to the wayside with a universal elegance. But enough time has left me figuring I’m more of a ramblin’ rhododendron: honest elegance has residue of the dirt and callousness of existing, troubles need handled with care (not thrown), the purest laughter is shared—and giving a damn makes a difference. Rhododendrons thrive on mountainsides, route paths to awe-inspiring views, and create some of the safest understory for the smallest critters; they’re rooted.

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