The Magic Willow Flute

Abstract

What integrates the content is the Appalachian experience—a delight at the living language and a concern for the region's future which includes its relevance to the national and global scene. Nonfiction articles highlight changing regional demography and its future impact on the educational system, persistent health problems, and the evolving roles of long-established institutions. The dwelling place of art is the larger society. Within this context, I offer Appalachian Heritage as a healthy paradigm for a journal of enduring value to the larger community. Appalachian Heritage can boast a readership that extends beyond the literati to a broader reading public throughout the region it serves. To many urban readers, Appalachian Heritage may seem quaint. But what qualifies as "rank nostalgia" for one reader or writer may for another seem an alternative to lifestyles plunging headlong into global socioeconomic disaster. What is left of the self-sufficiency and sense of community responsibility that characterize the village social system? What enduring values can we salvage from our parochial past for the benefit of the global future? In Appalachian Heritage these questions lurk provocatively within essays and stories and, sometimes, even in poems. The merit of Appalachian Heritage is that it "knows itself." It gives voice to its region; and by balancing its content it opens the doors of literature, reinforces a connection with cultural history, increases awareness of publications about the region, and encourages dialogue about regional and national issues. The Magic Willow Flute If you make a flute of willow bark and play a long golden note in the sun, it will keep the mist from the hunter's moon, hold back the ice and snow of winter, and bring out white flowers in May. Willow-leaf threads and cherry-petal days, black branch water fed by soft summer rain, our lives will be awash in light and love, when you, my love, come back again. —Sidney Saylor Farr ...