We had riding horses but there were no trails and the land was rugged and unforgiving. Long years of neglect had wreaked its confusion upon the wooded paths.  So in April of my fifty-eighth year, my wife and I went up into the woodlands to fashion a jagged trail.  We hope it would bind us again.  But it became an April Trail that meandered,  not only through the woods surrounding our land but through the woodlands of our lives.  It was there we found each other.  It is our Kentucky story.

Ride along with me and meet a man who lived his ending days in the hollow of a beech tree.  Or meet the Queen of Woods Creek Road.  For this is not merely a trail through the woods, but one we have all traversed ... one we all have forged and ridden, be it alone ... or with someone we love.  It is a trail of memories ... of never-ending recollections.  An April Trail through life.