Scenes of Spring wildflowers + medicinal herbs in southern Appalachia and a personal update

I've been a little down in the dumps this Spring. I'll be frank, this pandemic has kicked my arse. I didn't have a hard time with it until this past winter. Last year, I spent all my time out in the wilderness and out hiking and exploring, at hot springs and in remote places away from people, and to be honest I'd prefer to be away from people mostly these days after years on the road and so much stimulus.

I kind of wish I had stayed out there, but a series of events, including my dad almost dying, sent me and my partner back to the deep south, like that deep south, the one with the confederate flags and baptist churches, thats how i grew up-- and we ended up there this winter during the height of a big Covid surge with nowhere to do other than my parents' land where my dad hovered obsessively everyday telling us what to do.

For someone who has been so independent for awhile, this wasn't very fun. My parents have always disapproved of my off grid and nomadic lifestyle, and they aren't shy about expressing it.

Three months of being there, my partner, also used to freedom and independence, was about to jump ship and our relationship took a toll. We're still trying to figure out what we're doing with one another after being so cooped up together this year with this pandemic.

We migrated from my hometown, to western North Carolina and I find myself on the land I used to live on, which is mostly off grid with yurts and an outdoor kitchen, gardens, spring water. It's kind of a time warp and I oddly feel uncomfortable, like seeing an old self yet I'm totally different. I feel rough and tumble yet exhausted and depleted. When I lived here before I worked so hard all the time on 3 acres of gardens and now I can barely do much at all without falling apart.

(Purple Trillium)

But, the flowers have helped. The forest. The diversity of plant life that is found out on the land is soothing and comforting, and many of these plants are old friends I haven't seen in awhile.

I'm pretty much an autistic ultra senstive person, and while I seem to be able to connect to lots of different people in moments, hence the podcast I run on the road, I also tend to hermit myself, and can come off as unapproachable and aloof, mainly because I'm shielding my energy or aura or whatever you want to call it from the drain of interacting with people.

Some people don't drain me. Many do, even people who are my friends. It's more that the nuance of social dynamics feel absurd to me and are stressful to navigate.

I haven't been around people this year, and this year I'm suddenly back in a 'community' and seeing old friends all over, human friends that is. People recognize me on the street from my podcast. That's kind of odd and also satisfying, secretly.

(Squirrel Corn, yes that's its name. its related to Poppy)

I actually like wearing a mask in public, because I don't have to 'mask' as we autistic folk say. I don't have to make my face conform a certain way to appeal to what people need me to present to the public. I can let my face slack and hang and be weird looking and noone can tell.

The plants though, the are my friends that don't conform to human politics. They are there when I need them. In fact today, I'll likely go out and camp alone with them if I can get my shit together.

I feel lost here in the deep green forest, away from the wide open views of the vast West. I know we're spoiled here in the U.S. to have plenty of open public lands to go 'get lost' in. This space, this land is my medicine. In the east, I feel hemmed in, controlled, perhaps my parents being close by also doesn't help. They are conservative, have antiquated views on what is proper and moral, and aren't open to seeing new ways of being in the world. For me, cryptocurrency also feels rebellious, like giving me an opportunity to be my weird, artsy, awkward and aloof self when I need to. I'm far from financially sustainable, or capable of say buying my own land somewhere, yet, but I'm working towards it.

(Foamflower)

Walks in the woods this Spring have been healing, but I still find myself extremely melencholy, or even just numb. I feel kind of in a daze, unmotivated, lost. I have craft projects I can accomplish, plant profiles I've been working on that I could finally finish now that I am not thinking about where my body will be tomorrow for a little while. Podcast work I can catch up on. It's ok to keep it simple. Stop and smell the flowers, and I'll be back out there with a better set up, more infrastructure for myself soon enough.

Then I still remind myself of my privilege. I'm a white American, I see other folks on here from all over the world, and I remind myself of what all I have access to. To be able to drive around alone on the open highway with my camper home, and be relatively safe (relatively, there are shitbags everywhere) is not possible everywhere. My partner is from Brazil, and he says, well forget that in Brazil. A lone white woman with poor Portuguese skills out alone traveling around? A lot more of a risk. It's all about perspective.

(White Trillium)

(Ginseng!)

(Phlox)

I thought I'd share this update this morning, while I drink my coffee looking out my window, of the 'Yome' (yurt and dome structure) I live in currently, the clouds hovering over lush mountain peaks. Ok Ok, I have it good. I'm facing myself. The stillness will do that.

(Iris)

(Jack-in-the-Pulpit)

(Blue Cohosh)

(Shooting Star)

(Ramps!! or Wild Leeks)

(Pedicularis, my favorite skeletal muscle relaxant)

(Eastern Camas)

Follow me on Instagram at
@goldenberries

Listen to my podcast at: Ground Shots Podcast