Welcome to The Quiet Holler — where old roots meet new seasons.
I've spent much of my life tending to other people's stories. Somewhere along the way, I began listening more closely to my own.
It has led me back to these Southern Appalachian hills, to family stories passed down and others nearly forgotten, to the land that shaped generations before me.
Here, I write about the meaning of home, the ties that bind us, and the many ways we find belonging. About adoption and family, ancestors and old places, faith and the ordinary business of living.
These days, I'm paying more attention to the seasons, the stories, and the small moments that make a life.
I'm learning to slow down, even when life doesn't. To listen more closely. To notice the beauty in what might otherwise pass me by. To let the ordinary be holy.
There is still much to learn, much to remember, and much to be grateful for.
Chop wood. Carry water.
Live in the quiet.
Welcome, friends.
Here you’ll find the heart of The Quiet Holler — reflections, family histories, and mountain tales gathered from quiet mornings and well-loved paths. These are the stories that remind us who we are and where we come from.
Add your email, and we’ll let you know when a new piece takes root here in the quiet.
I’m including this video of John O’Donohue reading For a New Beginning because his words echo the same truth that runs through these hills and through this work — that every turning, every loss, every homecoming is an invitation to begin again. It’s the sound of belonging finding its way back through the noise.
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