Clinch Mountain
The northern cardinal soared through the sky. It had flown for miles, its wings growing weary each day. But it held on to one fading hope; it yearned to return to Clinch Mountain and hear the sweet melodies of the Carter family once more.
Long ago, the cardinal had nested in the lush forests that adorned the majestic Clinch Mountain. Underneath the weeping willow tree, it had reveled in the enchanting music that filled the air. They gathered there, their harmonies blending with the rustling leaves, creating a symphony of joy and solace. But life’s twists and turns had forced the cardinal to leave its cherished mountain behind.
With a heavy heart, the cardinal realized the cherished memories it held so dear would forever remain in the past. The music that had woven its way into the cardinal’s very essence had been silenced. A mournful song escaped the cardinal’s beak, a lament for the loss of the melodies that had given it solace and purpose.
A gentle breeze rustled the fallen leaves as the cardinal’s song echoed through the lonely mountain. At that moment, a realization washed over the cardinal—it may never hear that music again, but it could still carry its spirit within its weary wings.
With newfound resolve, the cardinal decided to become a living testament to the melodies that once graced Clinch Mountain. It would sing its mournful song to all who would listen, a reminder of the beauty that had once thrived there. Its tired and worn wings would continue to carry the essence of the Carter family’s music, spreading their legacy to far-flung places.
And so, the weathered and tired northern cardinal continued its flight, a lone messenger of a fading past. It sang its sorrowful song to the wind, hoping the echoes of the Carter family’s melodies would find new hearts and ignite a spark of inspiration. Though it would never again experience the music under the weeping willow tree, the cardinal’s purpose now lay in keeping the memory alive, even in a world that had forgotten the beauty that once existed on Clinch Mountain.
~ Robert David Atkinson
