Forest bathing: slow down and immerse yourself
Count me among those who are proud that Jackson County has two fully accessible certified forest therapy trails, two of only 21 worldwide with that particular certification.
One is a mile-long paved track along the Tuckasegee River near Webster and Cullowhee. The other is the unpaved lower portion of the Pinnacle Park.
This must be the place: ‘Little red wagon, little red bike, I ain’t no monkey, but I know what I like’
The absurdity of life, eh?
I’m just sitting here right now at the local laundromat in West Waynesville. Simply observing and reflecting on gratitude, for nothing and everything, and everything in-between. Families sit quietly around me awaiting the wash cycle to end. It’s Sunday morning. Back to work by this time tomorrow. Spend your free time cleaning your clothes.
Chris Cox’s warm, witty book about family
Search online, or in a library or bookshop, and you’ll find how-to books about parenting. Recent popular titles include “Simplicity Parenting,” “The Five Principles of Parenting” and “How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk.” There are even books about how not to parent, like Leonard Sax’s “The Collapse of Parenting.”
Behind closed doors: Commissioners make covert decision about Confederate statue
On the morning of April 8, county employees removed commemorative plaques from the Confederate statue outside the Jackson County Library and placed them in the county’s storage facility. Few in the county, save the board of commissioners, knew the possibility of removal was even on the table.
Bringing it back to center, back to home
Recently I caught up with several good friends over lunch and, within 20 minutes, we divulged huge life news that was surprising to the rest of the group. As I sat there with these ladies who I know very well, I realized how strange it is that as a society we’ve come to know more about what’s going on across the world than across the street.
This must be the place: 'All these places had their moments, with lovers and friends, I still can recall'
I turned 40 years old today.
This morning, I awoke in the guest bedroom of my parents’ farmhouse in my native North Country of Upstate New York. It was 12 degrees outside with a frigid breeze, the sun shining brightly. I rolled over and looked out the second-story window onto a backyard blanketed in snow, each flake sparkling.
Giving the present to the future
No book review today. Instead, some words about the importance of words — yours.
If you’re reading these words and live in Western North Carolina, Eastern Tennessee, or parts of Georgia and South Carolina, then you survived the Great Flood of 2024.
This must be the place: ‘Plates slammed onto the counter, coffeepot burped, voices ask of a loved ones’ whereabouts’
The title of this column is a sentence written in my old road journals. Back on Dec. 26, 2007. I was 22 years old and leaving my hometown of Plattsburgh, New York, heading west to start my first reporting gig post-college at the Teton Valley News in Driggs, Idaho.
We of the pale blue dot never learn
My Christmas wish is that every artificial light on earth gets turned off for 24 hours between Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve. We can look up and see the enormity of the universe without light pollution.
Adjusting to life in a meat locker
I’m trying my best to get this column out to you, but it’s not as easy as it seems. My teeth are chattering like dice in a coffee cup, and my fingers are as stiff as frozen French fries.
