Arroe Collins Forest Stories

Where are we? Why? The tall elm and pine look the same. We can see how far we've traveled since the Covid lockdown because careers have changed, landscapes the same. Our only certainty was the arrival of Spring. We don't sound the same. I can't tell if we've been hardened like an old oak or weakened at the roots like a Lodge Pole Pine. It's fact that we're making up as we add on layers of fiction....

July 22, 2021 An odd shape of thought has fallen into my heart while making my way into the forest. So much of what I’m seeing is a memory. I’m a writer that claims to endlessly live in the present. It’s difficult on days like this. Being mindful of the present requires a reminder of how we got here. The flowering trees bring color and strong scent of spring. As hard as I’m trying to push away the...

July 13, 2021 If all you had to do was to catch up with nature would you become part of the atmosphere or challenge the daily changes? No day passes that nature doesn’t invite us into its mind blowing presence. Look at how many people take the trees from the forest to build homes, backyard decks and boardwalks. From those masses how many replenish the soils with the strength of a tree? Look at you...

July 7, 2021 Peace and protection. Drop the microphone I’m out of here! Peace and protection. On April 3, 2021 I scratched into the surface of the journal the experience of waking up to a 29 degree morning blessed with bright white apple blossom leaves on the aging tree. A collection of leaves and limbs that I predicted wouldn’t make it through another winter. While standing beside the tree I aske...

July 1, 2021 This forest in south Charlotte, NC. Two days of hardcore rain. It looks like a wet dog that wants to quickly run into my home and roll all over the floor. The creek has risen, the soil extremely loose. How can something so tall such as a tree keep its firm grip on the only area it was given at birth? The human could never do something like this. More than a year into this Covid mess a...

June 22, 2021 The birthing moments of a new season. Whether it’s physically outside or inside you. The birthing moments. I live in a forest. To watch it waking up after a winters nap is a never ending story. Bright purple flowers, elegant white pedals, itty bitty green leaves and the scent of pollen. It weakens my head to have so much of this birthing of a new season inside my head. And what do we...

June 15, 2021 The awareness of being. When there’s more to life than looking at the clock on the wall. The presence of my forest here in south Charlotte, NC brings energy to the source and supply of required energy. On March 13, 2021 I wrote inside the forest. The words put on paper were a reflection of what had already been lived then compared to the present. It was one year and five days since f...

June 8, 2021 A woodpecker’s constant hammering on the trunk of a large tree has kept my imagination engaged on hidden fear. Anytime a woodpecker has selected my forest here in south Charlotte, NC, it means a passing of lives. The sound of the rhythmic thunder. I’d say this tree is several feet high and diameter. But in this present place of now I can’t pinpoint which trunk has come under attack. I...

June 2, 2021 A layer of thick fog rests on the floor of this forest in south Charlotte, NC. Unlike the scenes we’re being shown on the planet Mars. We’re amazed by the rover Perseverance and its way of documenting a completely different experience. No trees. No tall grass. No poison ivy clinging to the atmosphere with hairy tentacles. Just a bunch of rocks and rolling hills. A surface so bare that...

May 20, 2021 Hardcore question. You probably won’t answer it. I get it. Too many things already on your mind. What is your inner happiness? Not enter happiness. Inner happiness. Look at the world around us and know what keeps you from being overtaken by looming clouds, a sky of gray, extremely cold rain. Crows freely playing in the background. Did I lose you? Not if you’re truly being honest with...

May 6, 2021 It’s extremely difficult to not see the image of a mid-winters forest. Words written on February 7, 2021. The forest floor damp to wet. The trees stuck feet first in giant jars of Carolina clay. As cleared as the limbs appear, spotting the red tail hawk and very patient owl is nearly impossible. For that matter even the deer blend in perfectly. Until they move, my eyesight misses the e...

April 29, 2021 A frozen wet morning inside the forest. The writer’s words on January 31, 2021. A frozen wet morning. I knew something was up the day before. I had come in contact with twelve to fifteen deer roaming together. Like cattle they belong to each other for warmth, they feed as one and to protect the young. To be ready for the soon to become winter storm. I often think of the deer as bein...

April 22, 2021 The sights unseen still carry energy. Is it coming from history or the presence of the present? The sights unseen. Is it a moment of connection that generates empowerment or is it a series of stories that which were required to make it known this day growing forward? The sights unseen. Judgement without truly knowing. People are a sight that is unseen. Meaning if we don’t know the m...

April 15, 2021 What’s your wakeup call? Have you experienced one yet? You know that moment that changes everything. The Covid 19 lockdown acted like a wakeup call. On this side of March 12, 2020 maybe not so sure. Even with the vaccine those numbers are headed up. During the morning of January 16th, 2021 I wrote inside the protection of the forest that which I live within. On that morning it was e...

March 30, 2021 There’s tremendous positive energy in a forest long before the sun elects to arrive. A frozen morning sky that’s barely lit by a sliver of the moon provides a bass beat for the constantly hooting owls. It’s as if they’re the tour guide. Taking note of your Now. Mindful of the presence of where you are. On this particular writing day it was December where the forest floor was brittle...

March 23, 2021 I’ve always been a morning person. Totally convinced that I wake up several times during the night because I’m anxious to get a new day started. Creative minds work at different times. Which can easily lead to disconnections. The “rumor” was Eddie Van Halen was extremely active in the studio at unheard of hours. Sammy Hagar couldn’t always make himself available. That’s a strange wo...

March 16, 2021 Statues. Oh my! They’ve come under attack. Cancel Culture is the real deal. Before truly becoming a part of our every day I stood in my forest calling all of these trees statues. That’s what they look like without leaves! Each limb has its own personality. But do we know the history? Isn’t that the same question we ask when standing next to a large metal object connected to a time o...

March 9, 2021 I’m a poet. One that just happens to write in a forest. On May 7, 2015 I found myself sitting inside the collection of trees at the Billy Graham Library. I did nothing but write. Only to learn what was being written carried with it a vibration I had never experienced before. That’s why I’ve always called the podcast The Lyrics from Billy’s Forest. Since that May day I’ve continued to...

March 2, 2021 How dark are the times? Is it as tough as the headlines are saying? An avenue of constant change. The breaking down of a generation of digital achievers only to start hearing of the tale of how no success is possible without facing the fear, the failure, frustration and friction. Innovation comes from facing the storm not running from it. Such thinking puts me inside my forest in sou...

February 23, 2021 Animal Speak has been a huge part of the universe that which I’m blessed to be part of. Ted Andrews and countless others have written books that are extremely easy to study and by way of digital devices you’re allowed to keep their experiences nearby. Animal Speak isn’t for everybody because it goes against a lot of what’s already been planted inside your beliefs. And yet have yo...

February 16, 2021 I’ve written a lot over the years about the final dance. That single most unpredictable moment when what you once had is no longer part of the path. What was your final dance? In 2009 I not only penned out the lyrics to a song titled The Final Dance but had it professionally recorded. It’s always difficult to share the story of why a song is written because a listener’s interpret...

February 9, 2021 We’ve got an addiction to More. We want more opportunities, more respect, more money, more entertainment, more space and more more. Have you counted the number of storage companies have taken over the city? Before moving to the southern part of the United States I was told about there being a church on every corner. Today it’s storage units. We have too much More! I recently read...

January 26, 2021 We’ve openly discussed how much life has changed. These past eleven months have been brutal. Let it also be known that it’s more than just us. The atmosphere has evolved. Sure, we’d all like to locate the single key that’ll free us from a lifestyle we didn’t choose. The wilderness remains untamed. Even before Covid took its mighty swing at us I spent a lot of time in my forest. Co...