Fragments From Floyd

Regarding yesterday’s contention that we are in Autumnal NeitherNor, Exhibit B. I rest my case–here, the most verdent summer greens, moreso with yesterday’s rain, even while some trees are already conspicuously strutting their very finest show of fall color and others (the walnuts like this one) lost their garments entirely.

It promises to be a high-volume weekend for the leaf-peepers who will come up-mountain to enjoy the pageantry of high places.

On Sunday, I will be tending a book table offering Slow Road Home at Mabry Mill (guess I should have used an image from there for this post; I’ll do that for Friday instead.) If you aren’t familiar with it, the mill is the most heavily photographed manmade object along the 400+ miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Typically on fall weekends, there will be some music being made on the grounds, sometimes apple butter making and other such local-cultural goings-on as well. The parking lot–even in these uncertain times–is likely to be filled and into the overflow space come a glorious mid-October weekend as this one promises to be.

I’ve heard a few people say (and I concur) that the season is peaking early this year, but of course that varies by elevation and location. Our poplars missed yellow and went straight to brown; places with more rainfall, the color is better.

I’ll have books to sell and sign and notecards to show but can’t sell the cards as the concession there doesn’t carry them. I can give out order forms for them though for mail order. Maybe I’ll see a few of you there?

Soon, the leaf peepers will come. But perhaps, even more so that in past years, the IF, WHEN and WHERE of fall foliage remains to be revealed for the Fall of 2007.

What with the late frost that killed or surpressed leaf growth over a wide swath of the east–and higher elevations and deeper valleys especially–plus the off again-on again drought of the second half of summer, it’s going to be an unpredictable autumn leaf-peeping season.

And of a sudden, yesterday turned fall in Floyd–perfectly timed for the Taste of Floyd and Heritage Festival, though the poor folks who set up the tents Friday night in the dark, the rain and the wind have my sympathies. And while the skies were crystal blue yesterday for the event, the wind was no friend. I told somebody that “anything with a higher center of gravity and more wind exposure than a man hole cover is GOING to blow over today!”

And I will learn–if I ever do this kind of book table again (I’m thinking NOT) I’ll carry ROCKS FROM HOME, bungee cords, and a lot more masking tape. The booth next to me blew over entirely, while it was only my note cards and books and bookmarks and poster I retrieved time and time again.

I met quite a few nice folks, including some who had read Fragments before finally relocating to Floyd, others who had read the book and some visiting Floyd from “off mountain” for the first time. It was altogether a nice day, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so wind-burned in my life!

The Blue Ridge Autumn note cards that many of you helped me chose are now with the printer in Wytheville. I’ll let you know when they arrive, especially for the half dozen or so who have already put your name on the list for one or more packs. And hey: be thinking about note cards as Christmas stocking stuffers, as part of gift sets (Slow Road Home plus a set of notecards for $20 plus shipping) and for writing those post-season thank-yous.

And a little extra: a video created from the notecard images (30 seconds) over on Nameless Creek blog.

That we are deeply affected at a gut level by what we take in through our eyes is a given. A picture of an abused animal makes you want to cry, while another image of an injured soldier can make you sick at your stomach.

That we respond viscerally to the view before our eyes is certain. And so there are places we chose to go where what we will see can calm our souls in a world that in too many instances is a “bad scene”.

The Blue Ridge Parkway is one such place, and millions of visitors make this aesthetic choice each year. And more and more, when they drive through the Roanoke section of the Parkway, they see that green corridor encroached by man-made structures built to the very edge of the thin boundary of pasture or woods that separates these two worlds.

And they may feel a sinking feeling deep in the pit of their stomachs. A favorite place, once set apart for a different kind of view of the world, is beginning to look like every other common road.

To many, it is appalling that such visual intrusion was not prevented before it ever happened. But there it is: a row of two story homes along a half mile stretch at Milepost 125.5 west of Roanoke. There is talk of a Wal-Mart being built adjacent to the Parkway near Roanoke–unless enough voices are heard to protest it.

Yesterday, the Friends of the Blue Ridge Parkway sponsored a viewshed tree planting to grow a new forest boundary along this short stretch of roadway, and even under the threat of rain on a chilly April day, dozens turned out to help, including these 25 students from nearby Roanoke College.

If you care about what you see along the Parkway, now is the time to make a difference.

Tiny Floyd: Among the Giants

Who’da thunk it: Floyd, one of the Ten Top Southern American Cities. (click picture for larger image)

I got notice of this a couple of weeks back before it was public and current in Salon Magazine. I still can’t find a link to the article or image, so if you do, please sent it along.

Whoa! Check out the top picture–from our very own Buffalo Mountain, taken by our very own Weird Uncle Fred of Fragments from You-Know-Where. We just don’t know WHY. Apparently, one of the travel writers that passed through the county last year was smitten by the Floyd Effect.

Last Friday night was my first time in the “improved” Country Store, and I was pleased.

Much of the character (including the hornets nest hanging from the ceiling) remained. The same folks–the regulars–were there predictably attired and in their usual places with usual partners on the dance floor.

There’s just more room now. Better lighting. A significantly revamped sound system. And air conditioning when 200 dancing bodies send the temps soaring. Lots more shelf space, waiting to be filled with local offerings. An active soda fountain. And soon, open beyond Friday nights.

I was pleased during my short stay at the store to be able to congratulate Woody Crenshaw, owner and renovator of the store, a man who must be very gratified to see the task completed.

I’ll be pleased to offer Slow Road Home in the book section at the Country Store, and hope a new population of visiting readers will discover it there in the “heart of town” over the coming months.

And I’ll be back–for more pictures!

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Where in the world do your blog vistors come from? And why? How many of them do you know? Does it matter that visits are almost entirely anonymous? These are questions I’m pondering on Nameless Creek this morning.

This spring (oh I like the warm sound of that word!) promises to be a great season for touring the “Crooked Road”–southwest Virginia’s Music Trail that passes through Floyd.

Other stops along the way include Galax and Stanley country, the Birthplace of Country Music Museum in Bristol, the Blue Ridge Music Center on the Blue Ridge Parkway near Galax, the Carter Family Fold in Hiltons, the Country Cabin in Norton and the Blue Ridge Institute at Ferrum College. You can see and read a bit about them all on the clickable map.

According to Ralph Barrier writing in the Roanoke Times…

“The idea came at a time when old-time roots music was undergoing a huge popularity surge thanks to the success of the “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” movie soundtrack. The album featured updated versions of Depression-era songs and sold more than six million copies and dominated the 2002 Grammy Awards. Southwest Virginia’s stake in the CD’s success came through the inclusion of Stanley and bluegrass star Dan Tyminski, formerly of Ferrum. The time was right to capitalize on the newfound popularity of old-time music.”

Cultural tourism is a growing phenomenon as traveling families want to learn more about their own heritage and roots, and that comes from the getting there as much as it is the destination.

“Southwest Virginia has the greatest tradition of old-time string music than anywhere else in the world,”said Roddy Moore, the Blue Ridge Institute’s executive director. “The eight spots are just the high points. The Crooked Road is really what’s in between. I would take the sidetrips off the road and see the landscape and meet the people.”

If you’re new to traditional Appalachian music, consider a trip down the Crooked Road as the Baptist introduction: total immersion, head to toe, in “that good ol’ way”. It’s been ringing in these hills for generations, and the invitation is out for others to listen in.