A Nose for Winter: Podcast

I’m still working out the kinks in making the audio files easily accessible. Note in the right sidebar is a podcast feed link, although there’s not much there yet. Got to start some place.

This piece seems fitting–although with a foot of snow on the ground, except for the distinctive smell of the cold, the aromasphere of winter remains monochrome.

This essay aired on WVTF a few years back, and is found on page 210 of What We Hold In Our Hands: a Slow Road Reader.

A Nose For Winter[podcast]http://fragmentsfromfloyd.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/a-nose-for-winter3.mp3[/podcast]

Published by fred

Fred First holds masters degrees in Vertebrate Zoology and physical therapy, and has been a biology teacher and physical therapist by profession. He moved to southwest Virginia in 1975 and to Floyd County in 1997. He maintains a daily photo-blog, broadcasts essays on the Roanoke NPR station, and contributes regular columns for the Floyd Press and Roanoke's Star Sentinel. His two non-fiction books, Slow Road Home and his recent What We Hold in Our Hands, celebrate the riches that we possess in our families and communities, our natural bounty, social capital and Appalachian cultures old and new. He has served on the Jacksonville Center Board of Directors and is newly active in the Sustain Floyd organization. He lives in northeastern Floyd County on the headwaters of the Roanoke River.

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5 Comments

  1. What an exciting adventure for Fragments as you pursue the unfolding realms of marrying your artistry to the ever-expanding world of technology!

    My only hope is that readers like me who cannot access the audio and video (yes…there are still some of us) because we are the “underserved” (undeserved) of the modern world still on dial-up–will still be able to read what you create. You are always a bright spot in my day and I would sorely miss your presence.

    You know, even third world countries have broadband and high speed Internet. Over the mountain from you, we remain buried in the Pleistocine Age and it looks like it will take an archeological miracle to open the door of modernity for us.

    Thank you for your beautiful outlook on life.
    Elora McKenzie

  2. I remember this lovely essay from Slow Road Home. One of your best. I love getting my memory jogged by smells, but it rarely happens out here in California, even though I have been here since 1968. Tennessee is still home.

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