Let The Record Show

When we decided to move here, I had visions of us sitting on a back porch, surrounded by these green rolling hills (dare I say, they're rather Irish), sipping drinks and listening to bluegrass music. The good kind of bluegrass, with more Celtic in it than country. It's not really bluegrass or folk but I don't know what else to call it. But I  imagined it playing in the sultry heat as we lived our slower lives in older mountains.

Well. Let the record show that today we are doing exactly that. It's over 70 degrees here. The bees are buzzing and I can smell lilac or honeysuckle. The drink is sangrita spiked with good tequila and tabasco. The band is Chatham County Line. Did you know that we heard Chatham County Line live the first night we came to Brevard? When we were starry-eyed and young? When all the roads seemed possible, the air was warm, the hopes were high? Well we did. There were fairy lights and pennywhistle. We stood beneath a southern sky as it turned from blue to periwinkle to black, he held my hand and we moved in time to the music, to the turning of the planets, to the rhymns of our hearts.

Accidental selfie taken during Chatham County Line show, Brevard, NC May 2012