... Kentucky Is My Land... Kentucky is my land. It is a place beneath the wind and sun In the very heart of America. It is bounded on the east, north, and west by rivers And on the south by mountains. Only one boundary line is not a natural one, It is a portion of southern boundary That runs westward from the mountains Across the delta lowlands to the Mississippi. Within these natural boundaries is Kentucky, Shaped like the mouldboard on a hillside turning-plow. Kentucky is neither southern, northern, eastern or western, It is the core of America. If these United States can be called a body, Kentucky can be called its heart. I didn't have any choice as to where I was born, But if I had had my choice, I would have chosen Kentucky. And if I could have chosen wind to breathe, I would have chosen a Kentucky wind With the scent of cedar, pinetree needles, Green tobacco leaves, pawpaw, persimmion and sassafras. I would have chosen too, Wind from the sawbriar and greenbriar blossoms. If I could have chosen the spot in Kentucky, I would have chosen W-Hollow, The place where I was born, Where four generations of my people have lived, And where they still live. Here, too, I have always lived where The hills form a semicircle barrier against roads And there is only one way to get out. This way is to follow the stream. Here, I first saw Kentucky light. Here, I first breathed Kentucky air. And here I grew from childhood to manhood. Before I had been away to see what lay beyond The rim of the hills that closed my world. I followed the little streams That flowed over the rocks between the high hills to the rivers And then somewhere into the unknown world. I hunted the wild game in the hunting seasons Skillful as an Indian. And I ran wild over the rock-ribbed hills. Sky Bridge in Kentucky Enjoying this land of lonesome waters, sunlight, Tobacco, pine, pawpaw, persimmion, sawbriar, greenbriar and sassafras. I enjoyed the four seasons, Sections of time my father used to divide his work for the year, As much as any boy in America ever enjoyed them. For Kentucky has four distinct seasons. I learned this in childhood And I didn't get it from a book. Each season I learned was approximately three months. Kentucky wasn't all summer, all autumn, all winter or spring. The two seasons that I wanted to be longer and longer, Were the Kentucky spring and autumn. When winter began to break, snow melted And ran down the little channels on the high hills. Spring was in the wind. I could feel it.. I could taste it.. I could see it. And it was beautiful to me. Then came the sawbriar and the greenbriar leaves And the trailing arbutus on the rock-ribbed hills. Next came the snowwhite blossoms of percoon in the coves, Then came the canvas-topped tobacco beds, White strips of fortune on each high hill slope. Then came the dogwood and the wild crabapple blossoms, White sails in the soft honey-colored wind of morning And red sails of the flowering redbud, Stationary fire hanging in the soft mellow wind Of evening against the sunset.... The weeping willow, stream willow, and pussy-willow Loosed their long fronds to finger the bright wind tenderly. Then came the soft avalanches of green beech tops In the deep hollows that hid the May-apple, Yellowroot, ginseng, wild sweet williams, babytear and phlox. When I learned Kentucky springs Could not go on forever, I was sick at heart. For summer followed with work on the high hills. I plowed the earth on steep slopes And hoed corn, tobacco, cane, beside my strong mother With a bright-worn gooseneck hoe. Summer brought good earthy smells Of tobacco, cane and corn and ferny loam and growing roots. Summer brought berries too, That grew wild in the creviced rocks, On the loamy coves and in the deep vallys. Here grew the wild blackberries, strawberries, raspberries and dewberries. All I had to do was take my bucket and pick them. Then came the autumn with hazelnuts ripening on the pasture bluffs Along the cattle paths and sheep trails. The black walnuts, white walnuts, hickory nuts, beech nuts Fell from the trees in little heaps. And the canopy of leaves turned many colors After the first sharp frost had fallen And the soft summer wind turned cool and brittle And the insect sounds of summer became a lost murmur Like the dwindling streams. Autumn brought sweet smells of the wild possum grapes And the mountain tea berries And the blood-red sassafras and persimmon leaf... Autumn brought the mellow taste of the persimmon That after frost did not pucker my mouth with summer bitterness. October pawpaws with purple-colored skins, I found in heaps beneath the trees when I went after cows. I opened them to find the cornmeal-mush softness, Yellow-gold in color and better than bananas to taste. These things are my Kentucky. They went into the brain, body, flesh and blood of me. These things, Kentucky-flavored, grown in her dirt, Helped build my body strong and shape my brain. They laid foundations for my future thoughts. They made me a part of Kentukcy. They made Kentucky a part of me. These are the inescapable things, Childhood to boyhood to manhood. Even the drab hills of winter were filled with music. The lonesome streams in the narrow-gauged valleys, Sang poetic songs without words. And the leafless trees etched on gray winter skies Were strong and substantial lines of poetry. When I was compelled to put poems on paper They wrote themselves for they were ripe And ready for harvest As the wild berries, the persimmons and the pawpaws As the yellow leaves and nuts falling from the trees. Then I went for the first time into other states And I knew my Kentucky was different. Cumberland Gap You can see 3 states from here! Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia. As I observed the closeness of the tombstones In the the eastern cemeteries This gave me a feeling that land was scarce. I saw the tall smokestacks of industry Etched against the eastern skies And the cities that were a pillar of fire by night And clouds of rolling smoke by day... I saw New York, a city so large it frightened me, Cliff dwellings as high as Kentucky mountains, The streets and avenues were deep gorges Between high walls of multicolored stone. And while it interested me To see how fellow Americans lived, I longed for Kentucky sunlight, sights and sounds And for the logshacks and the lonesome waters. I was homesick for the land of the fox. And spring's tender bud, blossom and leaf, For white sails of the dogwood and the crabapple And the flame of redbud in the sunset. I knew that my Kentucky was different, And something there called me home. The language too was different, Not that it was softer But it was more musical with the hard "g"s Left automatically from the spoken word And the prefix "a" supplemented... I knew more than ever before my brain Had been fashioned by sights and sounds And beauties of wildgrowth and life of the hills That had nutured my flesh from infancy to full growth. Then I went beyond the hills to see America's South of which I had always thought We were a distinct part. But I learned we were different from the South Though our soils grew cane, cotton and tobacco... We moved faster and we spoke differently. The west I visited where land Was level as a floor, Where the endless field of growing corn Was a dark cloud that hugged the earth, Where the single field of growing wheat was endless, endless, And the clouds always in the distance Came down and touched the earth. No matter how fast the train or the car ran, It never reached the spot where the clouds came down to earth. The people moved quickly, They talked with the speed of the western wind. They were "doers" not talkers. I knew this was not the heart of America: This was the West, the young strong man of America. I visited the North where industry Is balanced with agriculture And where a man is measured by what he can do. I did not find the softness of the pawpaw and the persimmon, The lusty morning smell of green growing tobacco, The twilight softness of Kentucky spring But I did find the endless fields of corn and wheat Where machinery did the work... Beyond the cornfields and wheatfields I saw the smokestacks of industry, Belching fire and smoke toward the sky. Highways were filled with traffic that shot past me like bullets. And I found industrial city streets filled With the fast tempo of humanity... Then I was as positive as death Kentucky Was not east, west, south, or north But it was the heart of America Pulsing with a little bit of everything. ...The heart of America A land of even tempo, And a land of mild traditions, A land that has kept it traditions of horse racing, Ballad, song, story and folk music. It has held steadfast to its pioneer tradition Of fighting men, fighting for America And for the soil of Kentucky, That is filled with bluegrass beauty That is not akin to poetry .. But is poetry... And when I go beyond the border, I take with me growth and beauty of the seasons, The music of wind in pine and cedar tops, The wordless songs of snow-melted water When it pours over the rocks to wake the spring. I take with me Kentucky embedded in my brain and heart, In my flesh and bone and blood Since I am of Kentucky And Kentucky is part of me. Author ~ Jesse Stuart ~ Did you know that Kentucky has more miles of running water than any other state except Alaska. The numerous river and water impoundments provide 1,100 commerical navigated miles. It also has 12.7 million acres of commerical forest land, that's half of the entire states land area. "Thanks: http://parks.ky.gov/ For Reference" Just the Facts . . . Capital: Frankfort ... Population: 4,041,769 The first commercial oil well was on the Cumberland River in McCreary County Kentucky in 1819. Bordering States.. Illinois, Indiana, Missouri, Ohio, Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia Origin of Name: .. Kentucky ..From an Iroquoian word "Ken-tah-ten" ..meaning.. "land of tomorrow." Motto: United We Stand, Divided We Fall Kentucky Department of Tourism Maps and Driving Directions Dan's Pics.. Old Covered bridges South Eastern Kentucky Photos Exploring Kentucky .. Bill and Barb .. Pictures Kentucky Coal Miners Covered Bridges In Kentucky Ron Jones Realty ..Lake Cumberland.. Somerset KY Created * Copyright ©Laine Caudell *2002-2006 .All Rights Reserved. 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