He was a boy when he first rejected confederate flags, shotguns, and red Ford pickup trucks, the way the men talked about black people at the barber shop. He knew he was different, having sensed the call of the woods.
Some force he couldn’t see, beckoning. By 18 he could read trail signs, and knew where the crows nested and their favorite corn field…where the rabbits hid when the hawk flew by.
He did follow rivers, knew the deer as friends, more importantly he felt God’s presence in the snow falling…..with a love for the unknown, that he could not see.
Heart Song from the woods.
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