The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

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from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

Mountain Born

By Elph Mccoy © 1987

Issue: September, 1987

As I stare down at the city street
My thoughts betray my gaze
Because in my absence I have managed
To retain my Blue Ridge Mountain ways.

I remember how I learned from the animals
The ways and the call of the wild
I knew every inch of the mountains
When I was but a tender child.

I remember my old coon hound
His howl from a distant hill
I could tell the moment he barked
And his effort as he made his kill.

I remember the flowers that bloom each spring
And the bees, ah the sweet honey bee
Refining its nectar, its delicious nectar
For the ole black bear and me.

I remember the ole plow horse
How often he threw a shoe
I can hear the rushing trout streams
And see the yellow hammer too.

I'm not at home on these city streets
But for my ills there is a cure
I can hop in my pickup and go back again
Where life like the air is pure.