As months go, there was a significant creative dry spell for weekly letters from early July into mid August. That owes to the just-concluded trek through the French-Italian-Swiss Alps.
In the weeks ahead of settling into a window seat on a plane bound for Europe, however, there was a fessing up about the how and why of a new life in Brevard; Ellen and Reid (among others) had asked why pull up stakes in Charlotte and resettle a few hours west at the base of the North Carolina mountains. I had some explaining to do.
June 25, 2018
Ellen/Reid: I’m upwards of six months now in Brevard. This weekend Sondra asked me, as a few others have, if Brevard was to my liking. It’s a fair enough question and one that I’ve tried to answer to my own satisfaction since the day that I got the keys to the front door (January 18). Things were going swimmingly in Charlotte and that’s where all my good friends were, and still are.
I guess it goes back a couple of years when on the drive/slog back from hiking in Wyoming I made an impulsive way stop in Hendersonville. For some reason there must’ve been an element of dissatisfaction with Charlotte; traffic snarls, the accursed HOA Nazis in my ‘hood, coupled with some urge to simplify and downsize. Hendersonville was fine enough with a fab main street and lots of culture but there was something about it that didn’t jibe for me so I tabled it for 18 months or so. Charleston was also in the move-to mix but the far-far-far worse traffic deep sixed that thought in fairly short order.
But this part of North Carolina stayed in the back of my mind. I wish I could say there was some thorough rationale to all of this, perhaps just an itch to try something new, maybe, but that grounded logic escapes me too. I dunno. I was just ready to move, to have a little adventure in my life and to try something different since your old man could always pull up stakes on Bungalow Way to return to the Charlotte area.
It would be a misleading to say Brevard clicked for me from the get-go. I scratched my head a bit, woke up more than once in an addled, surreal ‘Am I really here?’ state of mind/confusion. For sure Robbie has been a gigantic help in my integration into the new town. She really has been. I needed a friend/guide/counselor and she became it. So she’s made the breaking in period all that much more palatable.
Brevard has grown on me day by day. Now that the moving dust has settled I can get to know this little ‘burg a lot more. A few more nightspots and a few more better eateries would be a great thing but like Charlotte, I tend to gravitate to only a few familiar haunts. I miss Macs, Plaza Midwood (which you’d have no reason to know about) plus all those good friends.
The garden has helped, too. Yeah, it sounds like an old guy thing but it’s just so enjoyable. I’ve wanted a plot of dirt ever since you guys were little. Many mornings I grab the cup you gave me with the girl’s photo and sip coffee on the back deck or just sit on the lipped ledge of the big raised bed to just sit and watch the plants the birds and anything else moving about out there. It’s kind of weird that there really hasn’t been much time devoted to fly fishing which was initially part of the draw but almost no time has been spent on the French Broad or Davidson rivers.
It would be fair to say Brevard is still a work in progress. As towns go it’s fairly progressive although there are a ton of ‘necks/Trumpites on the periphery of the city and throughout Transylvania County. They’re getting what they deserve in absolutely stupid, lousy tariffs and slashes to their safety net and a serial daily liar to put their trust in and swear fealty to. But they get to keep their guns and their irrational border fears so that’s all hunky dory from their perspective. None of that would’ve changed had I stayed put in Charlotte.
So the best I can do about Brevard is keep on liking it and keep my eyes open and hopes high. Thanksgiving is creeping up on us and you’ll be able to check things out with your own eyes. I’ll keep mine open about it, too.