The Aftermath

the wake The Cahaba Project leaves behind

Mar 10, 2025

How to contextualize a life changing trip? It was life changing. But what does that even look like?

Turns out, while I quickly and easily adapted to the river, coming back was the hard part. I did not do well readjusting to home life. Here’s the last journal entry in my trip log:

6/7/23 (Afterward)

It has been three days since I have been off river, and it has been difficult to return. I return celebrated, but I just want to be back on the river. Monday went to Moon River. Tuesday to Grants Mill, Today, Wednesday, I’m at the green bridge at Trussville sitting in the middle of the river writing this. Folks just walk on over the bridge without nary a glance at the water. Tragic! In my short time here I’ve been visited by an otter. An otter! The river’s hello. I have work that needs doing. I took over 3,000 photos that need sorting. Hate shoes. Have the windows open and thermostat set to 78 degrees. My body feels amazing. Solid. A gift. I wake at night in a panic thinking I’ve been kidnapped from the river—brought back against my will. Been thinking about the promises I’ve made and holding as true as I can to them. Life is better. I am happy.

I have been looked on with favor and this project brings me so much gratitude and joy. My community, support, and love have been solid and strong. May I do my best to foster that love and belonging for my river and my community.
Here’s to the Cahaba.
Here’s to the water.
Here’s to life.

In truth, I never did fully come back from the river. Out there, priorities are different. You feel closer to the world around you. I felt belonging and peace in a way that high-consumerism culture can’t replicate. Coming back from the river, I had to come to terms with what society and Alabama values and how far from the river we’ve all gotten. I became dissatisfied with my work and frustrated with life in ways I knew I would have to work through—and I have. But it took a lot of community engagement to get there.

At the end of this post, you’ll find a comprehensive list of some of the ways The Cahaba Project has been active in the community.

I finished my trip at the start of June. By July I had my first classroom visit which felt like finding a piece of my soul. I wrote about this in Day Three’s Substack. By August and September, I was up to my eyeballs in requests for talks, interviews, and articles. Folks were excited to hear about the trip, and I was excited to tell about it. It’s been a great joy getting to get out into my community and share my love for the river.

By February, I was nominated to join the Cahaba River Society board where I quickly found myself volen-told that I was the new board secretary. Since then, I have met monthly with a very dedicated and passionate group of folks committed to defending the river and educating the community about its importance.

That spring semester I had the chance to teach a new kind of class. UAB changed their CORE curriculum to include “Reading in Birmingham” and “Writing in Birmingham” courses, and I got to partner one of the writing classes with the Cahaba River Society. My students created activity workbooks for the CLEAN program which partners with Alabama schools for students grades 3-12.

I’m also currently in school for my Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in a low-residency poetry program at Warren Wilson. Getting this degree unlocks my ability for future promotion at the university. Doing so has broadened my community and my audience. Additionally, over this last year, I have worked toward my certification as an Alabama Master Naturalist—a program developed through partnership with the Alabama Extension Office and Auburn University. This program is designed to generate a group of knowledgeable volunteers to help facilitate education of Alabama’s outdoor spaces. I’ve learned so much and have been able to incorporate this learning into my teaching where I find myself happily situated at the crossroads of writing and science education. I’ve found meaning in my work again and am excited for the direction I’m headed.

Though my trip down river was a solo one, community has been absolutely essential to this project. The following is a list of folks (in alphabetical order) who were a direct help to The Cahaba Project leading up to and while I was on my trip. If I were to name everyone who has shown up for the river and this endeavor, the list would be impossibly long as I have met and been supported by some absolutely wonderful people since I’ve been off-river.

Many thanks to my “Assist List”:

Ginny Brown, Nickole Brown, Anne Marie Deas Bryan, Chip Bryan, Martin Coffee, Rob Cole, Carson Colenbaugh, Dennis Cotton, Heidi Cotton, Joann Deas, Lois Gaeta, Jennifer Horne, Anne Kimzey, Emily Krawczyk, Kaitlin Krawczyk, Billy Luttrell, Rachel Mathews Randi Pink, Wil Rainer, Katie Shaddix, Caitlin Sloane, Beth Stewart, Adam Vines, Shelly Cato Westerman, Adam Williams, Rikki Wocell.

Thank you again to the Alabama State Council on the Arts. Without their support this trip wouldn’t have become a reality. I had the ability to dream the dream but through their fellowship I was able to bring that dream to life. I highly doubt this would have ever happened without their funding.

And thank you, dear readers, for following me through this journey. This is the last of it This whole thing started with wanting to write poems about the river. Those are coming. But this project turned into so much more than that. This will be my last post on this platform for a good long while. I’ll pop by here and let you know when I publish that poetry collection or any other articles, books, or pieces I write relevant to this trip. However, this Substack project is complete.

If you would like to follow my future adventures, I’ve made a whole new Substack for that over at Everyday Wonder. If you’re following me on this Substack, you’re automatically subscribed for this new venture. You’ll get much of the same content, photos and write-ups of my adventures. I imagine the frequency will be around the same, about one post per month. If you wish to unsubscribe yourself from that new newsletter, I totally understand and won’t be offended at all. I’m so grateful for the time you’ve spent with me on this Cahaba trip.

For those of you who might be interested in taking your own trip down the Cahaba, I’ve amassed a comprehensive pack list of everything I took on my trip, including reviews of equipment and notes on resources. However, if you ever want to talk logistics, I’m here for it and will encourage you in your own river endeavors!

Finally, I’ll leave you with these photos. Each year for the last four years I’ve spent the last sunset on the Cahaba. I race the sun down to the river’s edge at the same spot and wind up barefoot in the river catching the last rays of December’s shine. I love the river in every season, but there’s something extra special about it in winter’s light. So here’s a few shots from December 31, 2024 along the Cahaba in Irondale where I launched this whole excursion.

Dream big. You never know where it will take you.

Signing off from this Substack until I get a book in hand.

Onward!