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Reading the Landscape

Reading the Landscape Marc Harshman Appalachian Heritage, Volume 32, Number 4, Fall 2004, p. 71 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.2004.0026 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/431048/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 17:43 GMT from JHU Libraries Reading the Landscape Frost-reddened brush, a green blaze of hemlock, a crooked rope of silver where the stream runs crystal and silent. The traffic here of mice and rabbits, grouse and fox, a stenciling of shadows, white upon white. The blackened spars of the poplar grove slash their shadows on snow-perfect ground. Such script repeats on bank after bank as if characters from that first language I am only now beginning to read. And without hope of translation the best I can do is hold out my hand: an invitation, a greeting, a first breath behind the first letter in the first word. — Marc Harshman http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Appalachian Review University of North Carolina Press

Reading the Landscape

Harshman, Marc
Appalachian Review , Volume 32 (4) – Jan 8, 2014
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Publisher
University of North Carolina Press
Copyright
Copyright © Berea College.
ISSN
2692-9244
eISSN
2692-9287

Abstract

Marc Harshman Appalachian Heritage, Volume 32, Number 4, Fall 2004, p. 71 (Article) Published by The University of North Carolina Press DOI: https://doi.org/10.1353/aph.2004.0026 For additional information about this article https://muse.jhu.edu/article/431048/summary Access provided at 19 Feb 2020 17:43 GMT from JHU Libraries Reading the Landscape Frost-reddened brush, a green blaze of hemlock, a crooked rope of silver where the stream runs crystal and silent. The traffic here of mice and rabbits, grouse and fox, a stenciling of shadows, white upon white. The blackened spars of the poplar grove slash their shadows on snow-perfect ground. Such script repeats on bank after bank as if characters from that first language I am only now beginning to read. And without hope of translation the best I can do is hold out my hand: an invitation, a greeting, a first breath behind the first letter in the first word. — Marc Harshman

Journal

Appalachian Review – University of North Carolina Press

Published: Jan 8, 2014

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