Since the mid-1980s, I’ve been researching and writing about events surrounding the Cherokee removal of 1838, especially those pertaining to the capture and execution of Tsali — who thereby became a Cherokee martyr — and three of his sons.

Some essays get to their point or points right away. Others are discursive, beating around the bush before getting there. Or they may not, in fact, have a discernable point. This one, I suspect, will fall somewhere between the latter two categories.

Bloodroot is surely one of most widely admired wildflowers in the eastern United States. Walk now through any rocky, deciduous woodland in Western North Carolina and you’ll likely encounter the plant in all its glory. Notice how the lobes of the kidney-shaped leaf encircle the fragile stem even after the flower has blossomed. This is a structural mechanism that protects the stem and flower during times of high wind, heavy rain, or falling debris.

There is a newly published collection of essays that deserves the full attention of any reader interested in this region’s history. Titled A Popular History of Western North Carolina: Mountains, Heroes, and Hootnoggers (Charleston SC: History Press, 2007, 126-pages, soft cover, $19.99), this volume collects 35 of Rob Neufeld’s weekly “Visiting Our Past” columns from the “Asheville Citizen-Times.” The book’s format was carefully designed and laid out by the editors at the History Press. And the text is enhanced via numerous black-and-white photographs.

As most everyone knows, a cockfight is a match between two specially trained roosters traditionally held in a ring called a cockpit. The activity has a long tradition in American culture.

I have on more than one occasion written about Uktenas, the giant horned serpents modeled on timber rattlesnakes that appear in Cherokee mythology. In doing so, I have never suggested that they are anything but symbols for the nether world of darkness, decay, and death. Recently, however, two surprising nineteenth century reports of “actual” horned rattlesnakes have come to light.

As noted previously in several Back Then columns, the Cherokees and later on the white settlers here in the Blue Ridge lived close to the natural world. In many ways that lifestyle must have been exceptionally rewarding.

Just after Christmas, my wife, Elizabeth, and I were driving south in the San Luis Valley of Colorado headed for Arizona. Situated on the border with New Mexico and bounded to the east by the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the valley is one of the more beautiful settings in North America. It is also one of the more remote settings in North America.

In the natural world there are certain experiences that rivet our attention and remain stored in our memory banks. Through the years I’ve written about my own encounters with rare plants, endangered landscapes, copperheads and timber rattlers, coyotes, skunks, eagles, red and gray foxes, box and snapping turtles, and so on. Not infrequently, I’ve received feedback from readers reporting that they have had similar experiences.

For me, no pursuit is truly worthwhile unless it has an associated body of literature one can consult from time to time for insights, inspiration, or just to pass the time.