Speaker 1: Hey, thanks for being a part of the conversation. Welcome
to Forest Stories, a series of short winded adventures within
a collection of skyscraping trees stuck feet first in Georgia
Clay right here in Carolina. It's been a huge part
of my daily journey for over thirty three years. I
Am the Poet in the Forest, a children's series written
and recorded in the nineteen nineties. It's grown into multiple
podcasts that now reach around the world, and none of
it would be possible without this forest. Right here in
South Charlotte, North Carolina, at the base of Heartbreak Hills,
sits a sign that reads Rainbow Forest. Well, it's time
you get to meet what's inspired several generations. Long before
the paved paths decorated with colorful homes colonized around this
beautiful lake, slow moving stream, flatland swamps and array of
natural animals, there were families and business owners who are
said to have raced into this area for the beauty
of the land, wild roses, migratory birds, and wild grapevines.
Those before me either forgot to write about it or
it's buried somewhere inside their family tree. Hey, thanks for
being a part of the Conversation. This week, the Writer's
Tale unveils the story of the missing mysterious gloves. Welcome
back to the forest. Interesting, I have found a pair
of working gloves on this forested floor. How is it
that you can lose two gloves in a single moment,
only two or three feet apart? Did it fall off
a truck? Did it fall off a tractor? And atv?
Speaker 2: How is it these two gloves are found nearly in
the same spot. It's almost like finding a dead body. Ooh,
this close to Halloween, and you think about stuff like that.
What would happen if I found something this close to me?
And I stopped and I began to look around to
see that other connections that had been cut off or
dropped off are in other locations. What do you do
in a situation like that? Do you run? Do you
make up a story? Do you prepare yourself to become
the inner armchair quarterback journalist? This isn't the only time
that I've spotted a pair of workmen's gloves on this
forested floor. I don't see workmen in here? Is it
other dog owners that stuff it inside their warmer jackets?
Because the cool fall breeze is starting to cut through
the skin and get directly into the southern bone. Why
would somebody and how could somebody not take note of
losing their thick gloves. And we're talking about the type
of gloves that are used when working on trees, working
in a garden, working on outdoor things, so that you
don't get the blisters on your fingers. But there it
is barely covered up, and the leaves that have fallen
freshly from the tree inside this breeze that is chilling
the bones of your southern body. Where do you go
from here? Do you think about who do these belong to?
Do I take them home and I use them for myself?
Was this a gift from the person who was careless
enough to drop the gloves onto the forested floor. No,
I'm not taking it home because they may be looking
later on. They might be walking with their dog, they
could be searching the tops of trees that need to
be prune, and all of a sudden they look and
there's their gloves. Because you know, these gloves, even though
they could be anywhere between sixteen and thirty dollars, it's
still money that we don't have, just to throw away
especially when it comes to working on other things. You
need those gloves. Sometimes they're the only words you have
because everything else is you have to shut up and
do your job. Put on that new roof, look for
things that are exciting to do or or very boring
to do. But it needs to get done because if
you don't do it, then it can lead to other problems.
But this morning, just one glove, but two, and my
creative imagination wants to turn it into a true crime
podcast to figure out where are the hands that go
into these gloves, Where is the body that controls the
hands that somehow, some way drop these along the way?
Who is the owner of this pair of gloves? And
will they come back? Because I was nice enough to
set it aside, I don't know that acorn that just
fell very close to me, almost hitting me in the head.
Maybe it's them watching me. Maybe I know too much
information about this forest. Hey, thanks for listening to the conversation.