About
I was born beneath a wide-open sky — where the tall grasses of Oklahoma swayed like ocean waves, and I learned to listen. There, in the hush between the wind and the wheat, a little girl sat cross-legged in the golden fields, dreaming of lives she hadn’t lived yet. I belonged to the land even then. Before I ever knew the word herbalist, or felt the weight of another’s final breath in my hands, I was already in love with the invisible threads that tie life, death, and earth together. Now, I live hugged against a mountain, tucked into the green folds of the Appalachians — a forest-dweller with roots deepening each year. This land is older than memory, and somehow, it welcomed me home as if I had always belonged. I grow medicine in soil rich with a heritage that is not my own — hundreds of plants, each with their own whisper. I walk barefoot. I tend. I remember. I pray in my own way. I do not follow a religion, but I follow the light. I listen for it like I once listened to the wind. I am a nurse by profession, but I am a granny woman in spirit — a midwife to both life and death, a student of leaf and lichen, a keeper of old ways in a new time. - Mountain Medicine Woman