When trees fall... So much is still unknown. We rarely get to see who moves into the now giant hole. The rooting system of a tree and it's connection to the soil. We can learn a lot from this relationship.

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn’t for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it’s time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversation

A 70 foot tree fell to the forest floor the other day. My neighbor says it sounded like a bomb. Research shows that such a sound is very common because as its falling a vibration in the air has been created. Sure, there was a huge thud when it met the forest floor but science explains the sounds of thunder didn't start there. It was in the air.

We have special places on our daily path. Those areas that give us a moment. No pressure. No expectations. Just you being present. To find yours doesn't require a trip to the forest. Your place of receiving might be a walk through the city or sitting on the deck just listening. Your special place. When all you really want is a moment.

I often wonder how truth filled a tree's rings really are. Most of my research points toward how the climate has been measured. Experts say tree growth is very complex, as is it's interaction with the surrounding environment. As a child we'd rush over to a stump to count the rings. I don't see much of that anymore. Tree rings create the paper that which I write upon. I take those words into the studio. The shows I record reach around the world. Tree rings create rings of people.

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn’t for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it’s time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversation

Extremely cold this new day. Yet the forest doesn't seem to feel the same. The music is the bird's song, gently playing while the sun is rising. Birds are my Jazz. My heart is always listening even while walking through this forest when it's 29 degrees.

Thanks for being part of the conversation I am the Poet In The Forest. A children series I penned out in the 1990s. None of it would be possible if it wasn’t for this forest in South Charlotte, NC. I talk about it so much that I thought maybe it’s time you get to meet all that inspires me. Thanks for being part of the conversation