Like this article says in the New York Times, Durham used to be a "ghost town". I enjoyed growing up there, but my idea of entertainment was to go to the same Mexican restaurant every week and go bowling. I never did get any better at bowling.
Durham is an old tobacco town. I used to love the smell of the tobacco factories, it was sweet and smelled like home. The tobacco factories closed in the 90's from what I remember. There was a lot of gang violence during that time, and downtown Durham was not a place that you would want to drive through or spend time in.
They have revamped the old tobacco district, fixing up the old warehouses. The American Tobacco Historic District has a stream running through it, great places to eat, businesses, movies and music on the lawn.
Finally we have had time to soak up the "new Durham". It still has its Southern character, with a new energy that is contagious.
From Durham we went to Winston-Salem, another town that's taking off in its own right. There we met Anna and Kevin Keller and their hilarious dog Fulton. Anna and I were in diapers together. She and I were both marveling at this opportunity to reconnect, and watch our husbands get to know each other for the first time. We drank too much wine, laughed, and told the stories of our lives.
Now, we are in Boone with our friends Michael and Preston. We both went to Appalachian State University. I so miss living in the mountains, and my heart leaps to see them again.
We walked in to the School of Music, where we spent the majority of our 4 years practicing and studying. "Excuse me, are you students here?" I smiled and said, "5 years ago". The father and son asked us a lot of questions and we showed them around. I looked at the freshman's face, and I felt those emotions all over again. Anticipation, adrenaline, excitement over newfound freedom. The Blue Ridge Mountains were full of places to explore, and things to learn.
I can't go back to that time. But I'm grateful for where I've been. The mountains are rocking me now, reminding me that this moment, these people, and this earth, are holy.
Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.
Mary Oliver
mountains mountains mountains
ReplyDeletegood luck on your travels, pal.
--ktberry