These Ozarks Hills

The first Friday of every month at 7:30 a.m.

Join us for a monthly radio essay by longtime Ozarks storyteller Marideth Sisco, in which she looks at the unique traditions and traits of this region we call home.

This is Marideth Sisco for These Ozarks Hills. I don’t know where it is you live, but out here in the rural Ozarks we’ve begun hearing whispers of fall this past week, as the Autumn Equinox has now passed and is receding into memory.

We feel a little spark of energy in the cooler and dryer air. The leaves of the black walnut are the first to fall and are doing so, revealing the harvest that is already beginning to pepper fencerows and the tin roof on the machine shed.

Peter Batemon

This is Marideth Sisco for These Ozark Hills. If you’ve spent any time at all outdoors in the past couple of weeks, even as summer’s heat has been the most reliable measure of where we are in the seasons, I bet you’ve noticed as I have that little scraps and snippets of autumn have been slipping in, testing the waters, as it were, making us stop for a second and whisper under our breaths, Ah. That’ more like it. The mornings are cooler, the air sweeter, and that peculiar shift of the light is beginning to take hold, turning things just a little more golden.

Heather / Flickr

This is Marideth Sisco for These Ozarks Hills. It’s time for another episode in this long journey that starts in my head and ends on the radio, and sometimes when I’m stuck, I look over my archive of random bits for some jumping off place, a place to begin.

Screenshot/Dirt the Movie Trailer / Youtube

This is Marideth Sisco for These Ozarks Hills. I’ve just come in from the garden where I finally, with help, evicted the last of the weeds where my cucumbers, beans and winter squash should already be in and growing up to my chin or beyond. One of the most aggravating things about getting old is that one is apt to run out of steam long before the things that steam was supposed to accomplish get done.

The Soil That Keeps us Grounded

Jun 3, 2016

This is Marideth Sisco for These Ozark Hills. It’s June in the Ozarks. I could have written about my potatoes, which look promising, or my strawberries, which are heaping abundance on my head. But then I saw a post on Facebook that put literally everything I know about life into a whole different perspective. And it’s not about Politics. Somebody posted a sign that’s attributed to the Farm Equipment Association of Minnesota and South Dakota. It offers this message:

Despite all our accomplishments, we owe our existence to a six inch layer of topsoil and the fact it rains.