Sunday evening The Deer Hunter, Chatter, and I went on a short hike up the creek. We knew we didn’t have much time to walk, but felt like it would lift our spirits and do us good to get some fresh air and exercise.
We started out with no plan of where we’d go nor how far we’d go. Chatter and I wished we could just keep walking until we reached the head of the mountain and could look over into Georgia. But that was way too far a piece to go for the time of day it was.
The Deer Hunter finally said we better head back home.
Chatter was filming part of our walk for a video. She stepped off the old road bed and said she’d get us walking by before we turned around for home.
The Deer Hunter and Chatter were being silly as usual and goofing around while I stood looking at the woods thinking of the beauty of the mountains in spring.
Suddenly The Deer Hunter got serious and started poking at the bank of the road. Before I knew it he’d pulled out the old plow point in the photo above. Each of us got all kinds of excited over the find.
Chatter said she was responsible for finding it since she’d picked that exact place to step off the road.
We wondered and smiled at all the times we’ve walked right past the treasure. The Deer Hunter said even Pap had walked by it many times.
Pap often told me stories about the cornfields that grew alongside the old road when he was a boy. I’m thinking that old plow point was used in those fields. Nature has completely taken over the areas today, but if you look closely you can find piles of rocks that were removed from the fields.
Not ten minutes before we found the plow point my mind had been studying on my people who used to live up the creek.
Since I was a little girl I’ve always felt like if I sat stock still by one of the old road beds for long enough I might just see them come walking down the road in overalls and cotton dresses. Hear them talk about how the corn was doing or how they needed to go check on the neighbor woman.
My feeling of hiraeth or lonesomeness for family long gone on was so intense that when The Deer Hunter placed the plow point in my hands I felt quick hot tears fill my eyes. It was as though my loved ones gathered close around me and told me they were glad my family and I walk the same paths they did.
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I was so excited for you finding a “treasure “ on your hillside trek! Sometimes I get a feeling of déjà vu and I’m carried back to a long, lonesome memory that is buried deep inside. For a few moments it’s like being a time traveler…that feeling washes over you of a sweet, precious memory of the past. Oh, how I relish those moments and memories.
I got all teary eyed. You had me walking right there with you. Beautiful story. Glad you all took that walk.
I, too, am thankful you shared the word, hiraeth. I recently drove through The Great Smoky Mountains and somewhere in the Townsend area I texted my son “Where we are now makes my heart hurt like I’m missing someone or something” Both sides of my family have roots in TN, NC GA area.
Im so thankful that you finally put a word on that feeling I’ve had my entire life. Hiraeth , such a good word.
Ive aways had this feeling of homesickness, loneliness, missing something that I didn’t know exactly what it was. More so in the last 10 years. I often wondered what was wrong with me…. Turns out, it’s normal.
Im glad I feel connected to my past, even though I’m not able to put a tangible hand on my roots or home place. The roots are still there. Invisible, but there. The past of All those that came before me, guiding me. Now, I tend to listen more.
Thank you Tipper.
That is a beautiful story about your Sunday evening hike and why y’all felt the need to get out there. I agree with what Pat Moritz commented … about how the LORD works- showing us things when we need it, and I would add- in ways that we do not expect…and also the insight about what you do with a plow blade/plow point is “forge forward and it is not always easy”. Hope and faith in God & His Word does help us “forge forward” through that which is hard and aren’t we glad for the Good Word and those “treasures” that He gives us along the way so we can know that He is close. Proverbs 12:25 (ESV,NASB95, KJV)
This post brought tears to my eyes, too. I was reminded of our house on Eagles’ Nest Mountain in Waynesville, NC. Our house, before it burnt to the ground, was near the summit and the road wound sharply down to a large flat area. Back in the day, there used to be a really fancy hotel there. Wealthy people would come from all over to “take the air” in the summer months. I can’t imagine the strain on the poor horses who had to pull those carriages up that steep, switchback road. Some nights when it was really still, I could imagine I heard music wafting up from that long ago assembly. I could almost see ladies and gentlemen in fine clothes walking around enjoying the stars and the soft, mountain air. That mountain has magic – as does your road – if one only will be still, listen, and believe.
My ancestors are from Alabama. Before that they were in Georgia and the Carolinas. They were salt of the earth people. They came here from Scotland and Ireland.
My wife and I enjoy our visits with on Utube. The inch worm made me think of my Granny . She used to say if one was on you, it was measuring you for your casket. Creepy huh!
Thanks for sharing your memories!
This made me cry so hard. Just losing my brother in March and Momma a little more than a year ago has made me think of all the treasures we now have in Heaven. The last 8 years have carried significant loss for us. When you spoke of them coming down the road in bibs and dresses it just broke my heart loose with what feels like a thousand years of tears being held back. You’ll never know how much your family’s stories touch my heart. Continuing to lift y’all in prayer!
Good read today!
The next walk up that way should see one of you carrying a metal detector. Likely to be other old treasures where that one was found.
Blessings to all . . .
Howdy, from this neck of the woods! I “done learned” a new word – hiraeth! A dictionary says that it means a nostalgic longing for a place or time. Walking the same path as godly ancestors leads a person to join them, once we get Home also. Thanks for the virtual hike with y’all!
Profound and touching gift for today, for yesterday, forever.
Yes, very touching!
I’ve told you so many times before, I love your blog and look forward to it each morning. This one was perfect. Your word lonesomeness means so much to me, but now Ken’s post re hiraeth is perfect!
What a wonderful story! When I saw the plow point, it immediately took me back to my family’s farm where I grew up. Can you just imagine how many treasures there are in the ground that we have walked past many times? I think of my daddy when I see that plow point and oh, how I do miss him. Thank you for sharing.
Heartfelt post, Tipper. I’ve walked over land that my father’s family owned so many times that it is really pressed-sweetly into my mind where I can still recall it.
They are all gone now, but I can still follow my Daddy or Mother along a creek, down a dusty clay road, walk a wooden plank to get a delicious cold water drink at Molly Harmon’s spring. I can sit on the old porch and hear way, way off in the distance the tires of a car moving along on an old road. Even though I know I will see them again, oh, how I miss them all. Praying God’s care over you and your family.
I’m always amazed at how the Lord works, He always shows you something, just when you need it. A plow blade, hum?, you always forge ahead with a plow blade and it’s not always easy. What a blessed walk you all had. I so enjoy everyone’s comments.
yup! Treasures hiding just beneath the surface, buried by time. Just makes me wonder if the one who lost it, forgot it was there or just dropped it and it was hidden from view. Sort of like years gone by when I didn’t have a place for something and it was so important that all plans came to a halt to find it. Pays to learn to organize.
Thank you for this story. You made me feel like I was along for the walk. My thoughts & prayers have been with all of you. I often “visit” with my long gone people too. Hugs.
This post had me in tears ❤️
I loved this story so very much. I often feel this connection with the folks who went before me. It can be almost eerie how things happen sometimes; it is as if the past reaches out to remind us it was there. A hairdresser told me of the barbed wire they kept digging up on her little farm located where there was once a small skirmish fought between Union and Confederates. Her thought was it was to trip up the opposing forces as they crossed over a small hillside. My favorite has to be the piles of rocks we find in unexpected, isolated areas. As my uncle said, “They don’t move.” I would like to go back to Fredericksburg one day where the earthworks from the civil War can be easily spotted among the trees alongside the highway in their natural state, and I have little interest in sites that have been redone strictly to offer a pleasant and more manageable site for tourists. I always look forward to your stories about finding remnants from the past. Keeping your variety is what makes your blog so special. There is something for everybody!
Me too.
traveling a path that people followed long ago always makes me miss them and the life they led. a silly feeling I guess but there it is.
when you said you were studying it reminded me so much of my Grandmother. She studied on her Bible. she studied on the world. if you asker what she was doing it was always I was just studying on this or that.
My Grandma told stories of walking over the mountain from Georgia in to Haywood county as a girl. She said she carried lard buckets with food in them to eat on the way. I always wanted to know where the exact location was and why they came into NC> she died when I was 7 so most of what I heard about this was from younger family members that she had told her story. She was a Galloway, married a Nichols. Her family ended up in Waynesville.
The pioneers carried such a plow point in saddle bags because all the rest of the plow could be made by wood cut onsite. They might need two bolts and an augur bit but they could travel light and build in the wilderness. Blessings on you and yours today, like Randy wrote about. And as far as crying goes Randy, I’d say most all men cry and sometimes the tears are seen but more often not. But they are there.
Thank you for introducing me to the word hiraeth. I feel it a lot these days.
This was an absolutely beautiful description of your hike and what a fantastic find! I could just imagine the beautiful day, the fellowship and the coming together of family, and to find a relic from your family’s past, that must have been a sweet time! Have a great day, you and your family are in our prayers.
I teared up at the end of your beautiful story. It touched me and brought back so many memories of my great grandparents farm.
Love this post. It took me right along with you and also brought tears to my eyes. I live in a little house in Michigan that is over 100 years old. Originally, this was a house for a blueberry farm. Oft as I sit rocking on my deck, my mind goes back to how I envision things were when this ole house was built.
I became very emotional reading this. I could see the people walking down the road talking about corn, and their neighbors. it reminded me of my mamaw and papaw. I do love the way you write, it touches the heart very deeply. Thank you.
I’m so glad to hear of your weekend hiking adventure and your new find! I’m certain the hike did you all real good and just getting out into nature to refresh and unwind. I’m sure with Miss Cindy’s poor health and all of life’s situations, it felt good to just walk, think and take deep breaths! Please know there’s many prayers going up for you all right now- golden threads bound for heaven is what they are! Personally, there’s no one who can influence or change the pride I feel in my heritage and who I am- a hillbilly who cares not what another thinks. God’s love and blessings to all this fine morning! It is indeed a day the Lord has made so let us rejoice and be glad in it!
An old road that is no longer used runs through our property. It was once the route from Chattanooga to McMinnville Tennessee. We have found many horseshoes and other blacksmith made items along that old dirt roadway. Once I found a buggy step. Sometimes, especially at dawn or dusk, I can almost sense an old traveler making their way along that road.
Good story! I felt the same when my cousin gave me my grandfather’s old plow with some Clay county dirt still on the blade.
Justin Metcalf put out a video just yesterday about laying off rows to plant taters with an old bull nose plow that had a point just like yours. Is that a coinkydence or what?
I said Bull Nose, I meant Bull Tongue!
Well, Tipper you did it again. You made me stop and think, remember, smile and shed a few tears and also long for days gone by. I remember helping my Papa change sweeps on his Farmall tractor for crops and our garden. Your writing style is so poignant and comforting and I enjoy it immensely and look forward to every day. Prayers for Miss Cindy and all the family. Keep the faith and cherish every moment of every day.
Looks more like a cultivator to me
Isn’t a cultivator just another iteration of a plow? You have turning plows, tilling plows, furrowing plows and cultivating plows. Correct me if I’m wrong!
Love it. I appreciate your eyes that see.
A new word for me and my longings as well. Tipper, you and your family, especially Miss Cindy, are very much in my thoughts these days.
Tipper, your heart is so tender. Thank you for sharing. Prayers for Miss Cindy and the family. Take care and God bless ❣️
A touch of Welsh (hiraeth) for this day. Thank you, Tipper. We are hoping for some rain today. It has been a tad too dry for Spring here. The frost damaged plants need the tears of heaven.
Those walks on familiar ground can sure help calm the mind and ease the soul. I guess we’ll be seeing that plow point on the porch soon, where it belongs. Still praying for you all.
You touched my heart this morning. There aren’t many that appreciate their heritage anymore. So glad your girls have been taught that these too are tresures.
This was so lovely that I choked up. I will watch for a video on this but I could see it in my minds eye as you were describing your walk. I’m so glad I found your blog and channels. It starts my day in a peaceful way. Thank you Tipper.
I do not read everyday, but I am glad for today’s posting.
You guys ROCK!
What a refreshing story. I was listening to some gospel music Sunday evening and the song. Cabin on a Hill came up. It so reminded me of my mamaw and Papaw’s house which was on a hill. Brought back many memories. Thanks for sharing.
You brought tears to my eyes as well. God bless.
Hi Tipper. I’m very nostalgic about my ancestors and the past too. I sometimes wish I could go back in time for just a few days and visit. Finding relics left by them is good too.
I left the word bucket out of my sentence about the well water.
I often find old pieces of mule plows, horseshoes and other similar things on my property. I have sometimes found a few very large nails that could be considered to be spikes. When I do, I immediately think of my Granddaddy Kirby I loved so much. He would often used these nails in place of clevis bolts to fasten the clevis and single tree to the plow stock. He called them bridge nails because they would be used in the construction of the old time wooden bridges. The county road maintenance crews would give these nails to him when they were near his home. He would draw up a fresh of cold well water for them or give them cantaloupes or watermelons to eat if they were in season when they were working in front of his home. When I was a small boy I worshiped the ground this man walked on. When I say this I am not being disrespectful of my daddy, but since I lived beside my Kirby grandparents, I tried to spend every minute I could with my granddaddy until my daddy came home from his work. Tipper, as soon as I saw the picture, I knew that was a plow point for what I think would have been a middle buster. Many days I would be like his shadow, followering in his footprints when he would be plowing his garden or corn field with his mule Kate. Just writing this now brings tears to my eyes and makes me long to go back to those days.
God bless you, friends of Appalachia
have a great day Tipper and family, God bless Ms Cindy with healing and health, God you friends of Appalachia
Yaaa hooo on your wonderful find. I am convinced that things happen the way they are supposed to and when they are suppose to. Amazing that you have passed that precious find before and didn’t discover it til now. The Lord has a way of putting us where he wants us, whether it is to teach us a lesson and show us a way that we had not considered. I have lived a long time and I am still learning, I guess that is as it should be. I don’t want to think about a time when I won’t want to learn or see new things even if it is in a different light or way. I remember those dresses of the past. My mother has made many an item from flower sacks and I am sure there are a lot of ladies my era that wore them as well. But enough about the olden days. Hope Miss Cindy is as well as could with all that is going on with her. We just have to remember, and I am sure you guys do, she is in His hands. God Bless.
Glenda, I hesitate to write this, but yesterday morning it was rainy and dreary here. I woke up feeling down and thinking of my wife, daughter and my other family members and friends that have passed on. While reading yesterday’s blog I found the older blog of the girls- Chitter and Chatter, singing the song “Take My Hand Precious Lord”, after listening to this, I spent over an hour listening to other old time hymns on you tube and frankly crying. Remember Sunday’s post about comfort and music. I also prayed and asked Gods to hold my hand and the phone rang and it was my lifelong best friend calling and telling me he just felt like he needed to call and check on me, after talking with him, I felt so much better, yes God answers prayers and works in mysterious ways. Nowadays if a man is not suppose to cry, I am a sorry excuse for a man.
Good read…
Hiraeth – the link with the long-forgotten past, the language of the soul, the call from the inner self. Half forgotten – fraction remembered. It speaks from the rocks, from the earth, from the trees and in the waves. It’s always there.
Yes, I hear it.
I learned today there’s a word for it, but not in english. I’ve been schooled.
Indeed.
Sigh. Thank you.