God-willing, and the creeks don’t rise
In the holler when I grew up, a big rainfall was a glorious thing. In this picture my mom just took and sent me, there’s a bridge missing where the rising water washed it away; a yearly spring…
In the holler when I grew up, a big rainfall was a glorious thing. In this picture my mom just took and sent me, there’s a bridge missing where the rising water washed it away; a yearly spring…