I come from mountain people. Well...not exactly, or at least not literally. My parents are by no means mountain people, but they do not make up the whole of my existence. Of course they influenced my growth and development, but their Ohio lifestyle and Ohio attitude are somewhat lost on me. I am definitely a product of the Laurel Highlands. I don't say youns (yinz) and I don't hunt, but there is some connection to this mountainous landscape that is indelibly a part of my being. Although, I complain about the winters every time I'm jonesing for a little golf, I don't really mean it. I need winter. I wouldn't know what to do if I never saw snow again or didn't the luxury of an all out March slush fest. For those of youns from 'round here you know what I'm talking about. It's that brand of snow, usually coming sometime in early spring where it looks like snow, but when you shovel it at the end of the driveway it splashes out gray water.
Of course winter exists many places, but what exists in me is a saltiness about it. I have an attitude and some might call it a sense of superiority about it, but it's not that exactly. What gets to me and makes me realize this part of myself is the way I get in a snow storm when I'm stuck behind someone who's clearly not from around here by the way they panic behind the wheel, swerving and making abrupt jerks of the wheel. It's just snow people! No need to freak out. There's also no need to race along like an idiot who thinks they're oblivious to the effects of snow and rubber interacting.
What proves to me that I'm a mountain person is the way that I can't stand cities and the pretension associated with them. (This is where I also take note of the fact that I'm not completely without some nature writing inklings) I know that I couldn't live in a place where I have to go somewhere other than my own to find grass. I feel at home when I can just walk outside and see a few trees or a night expanse of lawn. I like knowing or at least believing that my neighbor is a genuinely good person and if I pull over on the side of the road someone will offer to help. All of these are things I've experienced first hand. All of these are things that I can't live without. It's the simple wisdom of the guy leaning on his truck and talking about what the clouds mean or going to bar that was funded by money from either coal or the rail road. The thing that is most important about a mountain person is there sense of history. Even if your family is from these parts, you're a part of something because you grew up here. Sincerity isn't just an act and people follow through with their promises, maybe not right away, but eventually because they have a sense of duty and no concept of time, especially in the winter.
I also need winter. Maybe I should say I need four seasons. I recently had some friends move to Miami. I'm sure it's nice there in the winter, but no thank you, Florida and your humid days! Summer is my least favorite season, and I would probably not survive very long.
ReplyDeleteI'm intrigued by this need for cold; I have a need for summer. I think you're right that one critical thing that distinguishes rural from urban is a shared sense of history. That sort of long-term, collective knowing is immensely valuable.
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