In the southern mountains of Appalachia, many people still cling to the old elements that ensure the continuation of the species: dirt, sun and water. These elements link us across cultures and through time, but they are currently being threatened by development and careless land use.

Let’s take a look at water and the historical relationship of traditional mountain people to this necessary ingredient of life, as well as the current trends in water use and management that threaten this time-honored relationship.
There are springs and headwaters in these mountains that feed into the great rivers of the American Southeast, and these secret areas were protected in the time of the Cherokee and even in the early days of white settlement. It was deemed necessary to keep the flow of water pure, and cow pastures and outhouses were placed in relation to the spring or creek. From our ancestors in the British Isles, we brought a reverence for water that expressed itself in “dressing” the wells of Britain and Ireland in bright wreathes of herbs and flowers.

The religious sensibilities of the earliest residents were reshaped with the coming of western Christianity to the mountains. But the sanctity of water that brought traditional Cherokee to the rivers, “to the water,” is also seen in the small mountain churches that have a painting of the river Jordan over the baptismal pool beyond the altar. The full immersion of the believer in a body of running water marks an important passage in Christian belief and ceremony. To feel oneself made clean in the water was—for both the Cherokee and the European settlers—an act of spiritual purification and a place of healing.

This area also attracts spiritual seekers and pilgrims who come from an earth-centered spiritual perspective. Through their invocation of the four classical elements of earth, air, fire and water, the celebration of water comes full circle to a place of spiritual prominence.

For some time, many springs have been thought to be occupied by a spirit or spirits that give the waters special powers. There is a cove in west Buncombe County, NC, that boasts of such a spring—a drink that is said to bring fertility to any woman of childbearing years who partakes of it.

There’s a spring in Madison County, NC, that is said to bring healing to anyone suffering from headaches or back pain. Such springs were once treasured as literal fountains of healing, but with the coming of modern medicines, their curative powers were forgotten or not needed. Additionally, after being unable to make a living, the children of these farming families who treasured the waters chose to leave the land in search of a gentler, urban life. As a result, the bond between the people who lived directly from the land and the places they called home began to break.

Today, this vital element—important to all life and indeed the matrix of all life on the planet—has become a political issue in many places, and the Southeastern U.S. is no exception. The last decade has seen a drastic change in the topography and demographics of the mountain region. Highly desirable as a tourist and retirement destination, people are drawn here from all over the U.S. Development on steep slopes has put particular strain on the waters. Construction runoff, silting of streams, even over-use of wells in these deeply rural areas causes concern for the quality as well as quantity of water regionally. Due to the drought conditions leading up to the devastation of 2007, several state governments (notably those of Georgia, Alabama and Tennessee) are casting about for the legal definition of who owns the water.

As we bring modern holistic approaches in healing to the traditional ethnobotany of this region, we again turn to the old ways of “yarb” gathering (whether ginseng or ramps), and we recall the old springs with their curative powers. And, as our understanding of the basics of good health grows to include the consumption of quality water, in times of drought and plenty, we are all made aware of the importance of this simplest of chemical compounds.

H. Byron Ballard is an Appalachian woman with deep roots in Western North Carolina; she lives in Asheville on an urban farmstead with her husband, Joe, and daughter, Kate. She holds a B.A. from UNC-Asheville and a M.F.A from Trinity University and is the co-founder of Smoky Mountain Repertory Theatre and the Coalition of Earth Religions/CERES. Her writings have appeared in local and national media, and she is a ritualist and Pagan advocate.

Back to New Life Journal..