Dawn came in on little cat feet yesterday morning as the Swannanoa Valley was filled with fog. For just a little while, the ongoing transformation high on the south side was blocked from view. The low hanging clouds seem to hug the slopes and provide a soft blanket over the sleeping town. In some ways, it is hard to see that there is a town there at all, even on the clearest of days. The largest road is lined with buff stucco and vacant lots. Several years back, the mill which had been at the center of this community for 80 years closed and subsequently burned to the ground. Generations of residents lost a central part of the town they knew.
Setting out for my long run, I rolled out of our neighborhood (once a dairy run by descendants of Davy Crockett.) Turning onto the old highway, the pit bull mix in the second yard on the left gave his usual greeting, teeth and all. Several signs written in black magic marker on neon poster board advertised yard sales down the road. Out of the mists moved the sellers setting up their wares in school parking lots or their front yards. I wondered what stories those yard sale items would tell.
Traveling further up the road, I saw more of these sales. There were also cars headed out to summer adventures on trails or water. Reaching the halfway point and making the turn for home at an old Methodist chapel and graveyard, I saw the fog begin to burn off across the valley. Coming back the way I had traveled nearly an hour before, there were more cars, more people recognizing me and each other waving hello. There were also shoppers, catching up with or getting to know the sellers. No one seemed in a huge hurry yet today.
It’s been hard to see how the community would come back together, but little bits and pieces have managed form. A community group has worked to plan events, clean-ups, and spun off an incorporation effort. The board of the local library branch has put on community concerts for the last several summers. There is a farm store in front of the county’s alternative high school, an old building once abandoned to consolidation which now has an organic garden on the grounds. It may seem that there is not much shaking in my hometown, but that is clearly not true. You’ve just got to poke around.