Banner Mountain Girl # 69

From my journal: “It is raining very hard. The sky is dark and heavy with clouds full of water. It is a day in which I am usually lonely, but today my heart is filled with joy that is lasting over into this dark and rainy day.”

I am a writer and I must write. Often, I wonder what is new to write? Even if, like Hemingway, I should begin with one true sentence, how would I complete a work that I haven’t even thought about? It’s amazing how sometimes my words and phrases tumble over each other to crowd the page, and other times, the page remains blank because a long, dry spell has control of my sub-conscious. Writer’s block is for real from time to time in a writer’s life. And it’s to be expected. As far as I can tell, there’s no quick cure for it.

Journal entry: “I have no creative thoughts but I feel compelled to write something. Drove out to Banner Mountain. Enjoyed the peacefulness of the woods. I always like to go back there.”

Going back to Banner Mountain is like going back home–the place I left at the age of barely nineteen. On an autumn day following our wedding and honeymoon, my husband and I loaded our wedding gifts into the car he had borrowed from an Air Force buddy and we began our journey in life together. A couple of days later, we arrived at Smoky Hill Air Force Base out on the Kansas plains–the countryside so different from my beloved Banner Mountain, with its woodlands, its songbirds, goldfinch on hoeand its kind and gentle people. I would meet other wonderful people as we followed my husband’s military career. I would live in other states in the United States and in one foreign country before my husband retired. After his retirement we moved back to Arkansas, back to the Ozarks to live not very far from Banner Mountain.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

Banner Mt.


Banner Mountain Girl # 66 Winter’s Night

As rain begins to turn to ice,
When sun sets,
Protect pets–
Subfreezing temps are never nice.
Mittens, cap
Fur-lined wrap.
The little birds arise in flight,
Feathers fluffed
Hanging tough.
They roost in trees in winter’s night.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

DSC_0180 (2)




BANNER MOUNTAIN GIRL # 52 Christmas on the Mountain

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the stars are burning bright
when the cool dark of December
spreads into the blackened night.

Oh, it’s Christmas on the mountain
and the snowflakes twirl and swirl
when the cool dark of December
turns each flake into a pearl.

When it’s Christmas on the mountain,
the wild creatures run to play
in the cool dark of December
on the eve of Christmas Day.  © Freeda Baker Nichols

Birds in the snow


Banner Mountain Girl # 33

From my journal . . . dated 1980 . . . random thoughts

Days that come as bright as the golden sun filtering from a blue sky. Sun that filters from a blue sky. Sparkles of sun that sifts down in lines that eaglets follow. Birds opening their beaks, reaching for food. Worms. Food for birds. Birds singing. Happy birds. Birds have problems, too. Keep the cat away. Keep the people away from the nest of eggs or baby birds. Many kinds of birds. They sing with different melodies. They are beautiful. They are of many colors. Yellow, black, orange, red, blue, purple.

A million blackbirds flew over the house. They made a huge shadow when they were in the sunlight. They alighted on the bare limbs of the gigantic oak tree. They looked like big leaves on the tree. They all flew to the ground. They looked like a big black carpet.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

A bird in flight.