Larkspur Conservation at Taylor Hollow
Just about a year ago Antony and I ventured out to Larkspur Conservation at Taylor Hollow, Tennessee’s first Natural Burial Ground.
We met John Christian Phifer and he took us on a tour of the land. We also made a short documentary about the land and work they’re doing at Larkspur. That short film is at the end of this blog.
Six months ago everything got turned upside down when my cousin died.
A couple of months later I met with John Christian over coffee. After the experience at Larkspur I found a deeper bond with him than I’d expected. We don’t meet often but when we do we bypass the small talk as soon as possible and get into the deep end of the pool with life and all that is tied to that. He’s that kind of friend to me and I love him deeply.
I told him about Nate. I told him about Nate’s job and about his love of nature and how he was taking on the arduous task of hiking the Appalachian Trail in stages after he had to come off the trail in Virginia the previous year. After the precious times with family and friends honoring, remembering and celebrating Nate’s life and passion I realized not everyone has that sort of experience when they’ve lost someone this way.
I told him I wanted to provide some sort of memorial for the people at Second Chance Sober Living for those they had lost. Somewhere to remember and honor the loved ones who suffered. Somewhere to place a proverbial stake in the ground and go from that place to live life to the fullest in their memory.
John Christian lit up immediately with a face of love and compassion as he shared what could be done for such a memorial. I came to him asking for a small gathering and he turned it into the most beautiful memorial idea I could imagine.
Then, weeks later, when I was able to articulate the vision of this documentary about Stigma fully I thought back to that conversation and played with the notion of his idea being a part of the story.
Last week we met again and I shared that idea with him and AGAIN he took my idea and ramped it up beyond what I could have thought to ask.
I will not spoil the film by telling you what he offered. Partially because I couldn’t do it justice with words but also, I don’t want to spoil the movie we are ultimately making and I really want you to see the final film. What I will say is that Larkspur Conservation at Taylor Hollow WILL be a part of this documentary.
Antony and I are having extensive planning sessions to make it meaningful both in the moment and for the documentary.
As I sit here today, six months and one day after Nate’s passing, I am struck with how magical things move around us if we pay attention. Seven days before Nate passed he wrote on his Instagram account, accompanied by photos of the trail, “Can’t wait to get home. City life is confusing and way more treacherous and hard to Navigate. 9 Days. #goinghiking #sololife”
He didn’t make it back to the trail. He didn’t meet one of the friends (trail family) he’d made from the trail who commented to his post that she’d basically be hiking in the same area at the same time. It breaks me in half to think of her in the moments she got the news.
Some people who I’ve share the whole pitch of this documentary with haven’t quite been able to wrap their minds around the connection to Larkspur in a film about stigma. For a moment it causes me to question it but then I think about what I wrote just a few sentences above... “how magical things move around us if we pay attention.”
We shot the footage for the Larkspur Documentary on February 26, 2019. We edited the rest of the week to try and tell the beautiful story of Larkspur about nature and remembering and life and friends and loss and victory and hiking…
March 1st, 2019 Nate wrote on his facebook page:
Last March I started my journey to walk from Georgia to Maine, 2200 miles. I ended up leaving the Appalachian Trail after 786.6 miles in Glasgow Virginia. Even though I wasn’t successful in reaching Maine, my hike was hardly a failure. I have lots of happy memories and made many lifelong friends.
