Country connections live on for two fellows
I am glad for Tipper Pressley and Jim Casada, who have their own webpages, and notify me whenever a new "issue" comes out." They often provide good material for "The Read," which I am happy to share.
Tipper generated an "I am from" collection of poems from her readers, and I was particularly arrested by Ed Ammons' piece, "I am from Wiggins Creek." First of all, he named a specific place. Then he said, "The words 'I am from' to me mean I have distanced myself from something. I have not. Memories may have faded but not by choice. All this and much, much, more is still what I am, not where I am from." That's a lot of feeling derived from a preposition. His poem is grounded: "...I am from tanbark, dogwood shuttles, wormy chestnut and rich pine knots. I am from mica mines, rubies, garnets and rose quartz picked up off the ground. I am from summer Sunday afternoon haircuts with shape note singing. Hoping Wayne brings the boys. Hoping somebody brings a watermelon." There's much more, and some bite: see here.
Jim Casada, in his monthly newsletter, reminded us what August means in the country: "It was time to start letting our beagles do some rabbit chasing in the cool of night, toughening them up for the coming of cottontail season. The mere thought of hunting also reminded me that squirrel season would open in two months. It was a time when the trout streams, often crowded in late spring and early summer, were pretty much devoid of anglers." See more. Well, September's here, and we're waiting.