Joyce L. Miller

 

Joyce spent many of her early days reveling in the magic of the Blue Ridge Mountains. She hiked its trails and watched from overlooks as the early morning fog of its venerable old Smoky Mountains lifted, unveiling the blue haze that lay unpretentiously over its ridges and valleys. The presence of the Cherokee peoples, who were once good stewards of this land, was still strong then. Cherokee place names, tribal legends, and tragic stories of their forced journey on The Trail of Tears were commonplace. They created a longing in her for what had been lost and a sense of the need to protect those things that are precious and fragile in the world.

Today Joyce makes her primary home with her husband Dan within sight of the jagged peaks of the much younger, much more dramatic Colorado Rocky Mountains. Now much of her free time is spent in seeking out its colorful wildflower meadows and crystal-clear lakes. Often these days, she begins her mornings pen in hand with a cup of dandelion tea in front of her, writing to the plopping sound goldfish make as they grab breakfast from among the water hyacinths in their ponds below her deck. She spends many of her evenings playing lively and very competitive family Scrabble games while snacking on chips or eating overly stuffed burritos and chocolate cake.

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