As the Garden Grows

I never got around to writing about my trip to the mountains last weekend to attend an annual fiddler's convention so here are a few thoughts and experiences I would like to share.

Every year for 5 years now we have driven just under 75 miles to a small town in the North Carolina mountains, just along the NC/VA border to attend a fiddler's convention. The drive up is usually harried; trying to get everything packed, get off work on time, see to the animals and get there as quickly as possible so we can set up our tent before dark and enjoy some of the best music you've ever heard before turning in for the night. Just arriving in the small town is and experience in itself. We arrived around 4:00 in the afternoon and the small downtown area was alive with the smiling faces of people shopping at the local hardware store that has been in operation for about 100 years, and visiting the various other small businesses in the town. The attitudes of these people that live there is so refreshing. The owner of the nearby convenient store is the same person you will find behind the counter, again with a smile on her face and kindness in her voice. The people there are in no-hurry mode. I find this refreshing and it draws me in every time.
The fiddler's convention itself is rather small but situated in a region where there are so many talented musicians that you can't throw a rock without hitting one. When we arrived, it was very hot and muggy and thunder echoed around. Before long, a brief shower came and cooled everything off. I actually got cold in shorts and tank top later that night and slept under a quilt in the tent. The mountain air was delicious the next morning and most of the day as we experienced mostly overcast skies.
Saturday evening, we went down to where the musicians were camping and sat with a group of friends that are very accomplished musicians. My husband really enjoyed listening to them play and sing together. The group changed througout the night except for my friend and her husband. Different musicians would just walk up with their instrument in tow (one guy carried his large upright bass over) and join in the group. This was possibly the most enjoyable part of the trip; getting to sit side by side with such talented musicians and singers and listen to their music and sing along with them. We didn't go to bed until 3am and had a blast.
Sunday morning, we woke up to another cool refreshing morning with the breezes blowing around the mountain top we were camped on. We took a short hike to the top of the ridge and the view was beautiful, so peaceful. We decided that next year we would set up our campsite further up the road so that when we emerged from our tent each morning, we would have this spectacular view. So wonderful! As soon as we were 40 miles from home, I could tell our little trip was over. The air was once again hot and stuffy and the humidity made me feel tired and sluggish. I took a nap as soon as I got home.
This may sound cliche, but I really do feel like the mountains are my home. I feel so energized, free and alive. I am conscious of all the medicinal plants and herbs growing wild all around me and I long to grow things in a garden in the mountains. Maybe in another life this was my place. So often I find my self feeling that this place (where I live now) and even this time are not really mine. I long for a simpler place and time where things are slower, friendlier, and freer. I have faith that some day soon, I will find my piece of land and my place once again. And there I will have a garden....