No matter where you find yourself, you can be sure to find soul in a region. These old souls transcend borders and boundaries. These regions came before lines were drawn on maps. Hell, they came before the maps themselves. You can always feel the soul of a region tugging at you, begging for attention. It doesn’t matter if it’s your home state, new home or somebody else’s. You might even take pride in it, feeling a sense of ownership; because you do, we all do. No two souls are alike, be it people or places. That uniqueness makes it all special, one of a kind.
I grew up in Alabama. You won’t find any great mountains commanding the skyline; just the foothills of the Appalachians. The weathered and worn southern portion of the old range: the range that has seen it all. You won’t find any old-growth forests either; we cut those down years ago. You see, the state of Alabama is quite adept at exploiting its own natural wonders. I’m not talking about the good way either. It is our history. We can’t change it, but we can learn, grow and move on.
Alabama does have soul, though, and it doesn’t stay in one place for very long. You see, we have our water, and we are damn proud of it. The rivers, creeks and streams are the veins that supply the lifeblood to the whole region. It connects the mountains to the sea, just the same as anywhere you go. I have to believe that it really is special here though. It can be hard to realize how rare and special a region is when you grow up in it. That soul becomes part of you without your permission, and you might not even realize it until you are gone.
There is a time and a place where that elusive and immersive soul shows her beautiful face in Alabama. There is a river that runs for 200 uninterrupted miles through the heart of this region, following the lead of the Appalachians. We call it the Cahaba. And while it is unique in many ways, there is one feature that stands out from the rest. Before the river drops below the Fall Line, bidding farewell to the Appalachian Highlands and beginning it’s slower journey through the Coastal Plains, the soul of this region performs one final act. Each May the shoals of the Cahaba River are filled with Spider Lilies, a flower found in few other places in the world. There is one shoal in particular, Hargrove Shoal, that stretches for over half of a mile. It is the largest concentration in the world, and For just a couple of weeks all you can see are thousands of Cahaba Lilies, taking turns and dancing for the day. One by one, each lily opens and closes for her short twenty-four hour act. To stand there in the midst of such beauty, knowing that you won’t even see the exact same sight the following day entices a sense of presence that you do not find anywhere else. It is rare, unique, large and in danger, but so are most of the souls you come across. And I guess that is where that leaves all of us, searching. We might have to travel or wait, but it is a search nevertheless. We search for soul no matter where we go because it is always there. You just have to go and find it.