The Old Town

I chose to continue to live in this tiny town when I suppose I had chances to live other places. I had a chance to move to Hendersonville, N.C. back in the mid-nineties but turned it down. I could probably sell out and move…but I probably won’t.

I figure the reason is that the spirit of the land in this little valley speaks to my soul. These hills and ravines in this part of the country have been inhabited for over twelve thousand years. Go visit Russell cave if you doubt me. This area has been Geologically stable, more or less, for millions of years. That’s why you can dig crinoid stems and trilobytes on the roadside at Taylor’s ridge. There is a lot of history stacked up in this small tri State area. I can feel it when I walk around here.

I have only one other place where I feel that spiritual connection, and that’s in Blue Ridge, Ga. I feel it more gently there now on the rare occasions when I go. The then of what I remember does not match the now of what is there. It’s becoming that way a tiny bit here in Trion, but not like in Blue Ridge…which seems to have become a playground for out of towners. I have people there I need to visit though.

Here still feels like home, and like my ancestors who were mostly Scotch and English farmers and hunters, home is the land you grew up on. I feel somehow tied to it, be that good or bad. The past of it speaks to my heart. I like going on vacations other places, but I like coming home. I don’t think I’ll get like my Grandpa, who would only reluctantly come out from “snake nation” but there is an attachment.

I have raised my children here, and now Grandchildren. And so there is a sense of continuity which is comforting. I heard one of my old neighbors wanted his ashes scattered from a plane over this little valley so that he would still be a part of it. I’m not going that far…yet

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