Fragments From Floyd

Three plus years ago in a galaxy far, far away, I turned on a virtual beacon signal from a remote place--not quite a desert island, but in those days, I felt almost that isolated from the rest of the world here on the edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The signal went out every day, in the mornings, usually: Hello, anyone. If you'll read what I write, I'll tell you who and where I am. Where, mostly. I'm hoping to find kindred souls, and particularly those who live near me or who share some of my love of the place most of you have never heard of. It's called Floyd, Virginia. These are fragments of daily life from this desert place in my life, this far-away beautiful place in the planet's geography. Please acknowledge. Anyone?

Bloggers have said hello who never heard of Floyd and will never come here but feel they know this place, even the family dog, through this journal. Bloggers have come here, met me in town and had coffee or shared a meal with me, some even spent the nights here. Bloggers have found ties to families and land in Floyd they rarely see now, living across the country or the world. They check in from time to time to see that life goes on here in these gentle mountains, come to watch the seasons change. And bloggers have moved here, not because of this journal, but reinforced perhaps by the images and stories, knowing with greater certainty that this is, indeed, a place where they will fit in. There have been so many unpredictable encounters and friendships and opportunities that have come because real people have heard the ping of the daily beacon. I am here. Join me.

This week I've heard from a lady who lives across the country who has decided Floyd is the place for her. She's meeting with a realtor this weekend, I think. Some, who began looking in the Floyd area emailed this week; they have ended up instead over on Groundhog Mountain on the Parkway, but I imagine in time, we'll cross paths. Sean is a new acquaintance from Boones Mill; his family wants to visit Floyd soon, and perhaps we can have a sandwich at Momma Lazardos; who knows. Today, I'll meet Jim and his family briefly in town; he has native roots here but lives north and urban. And a few days back, "live2write" who has connections to Floyd sent a link to an essay she has written about the county and lifestyle here, having found Fragments, I suppose, by looking for connections to Floyd. Good to 'meet' you all, and I appreciate your participation in the smallish community of those who know and love this part of southwest Virginia along with me.

I confess that, what with the never-ending but enjoyable burden of class preparation plus the weight of current and dreaded future events in the larger world, my mind and heart have been at times far from centered on this blog and its readers and my real and virtual friends that I meet and touch through Fragments, or in real life. I can't say that's likely to change much in the coming weeks or months. I'm far away from the place I live now, even though it is just outside my window--far from the creeks, from the changing season, from the feel of the air and sound of morning. I am temporarily disconnected from my roots in the visual, the sensory, the details of the very here, very now. And since this blog has pretty much been all along a blog about place, it is not altogether the same voice, the same feel, or the original 'brand' of blog it has mostly always been. You understand: if one writes from the heart, and writes what he knows, if he writes open and honest, the patterns will change. And change back, ebb and flow, for richer or for poorer. And so it goes. Thanks all, for your tolerant sharing in this fragmented life.