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(Here <ire some reflections on country living from Bill, my semi-regular correspondent from Piedmont County.)
I’m wondering: If newcomers love country living as much as they say, why do they want to change the countryside? Take Bruce Wilson, for example, a neighbor of mine up here in the hollow. He’s a likeable guy, active in the community; grew up in the suburbs, had some government job. Moved out here three years ago and built a nice big house next to Grannu Jenkins’s place.
Bruce loves country livingthe open, rolling pastures, the scenic mountain vistas, the slower pace of life and friendly neighbors. He doesn’t mind saying so, either, to his city friends or in a committee or public meeting. But now Bruce is campaigning to get our beautiful tree-lined gravel road widened and paved. I guess he doesn’t like the dust or the washboard. Or maybe he’s thinking of his property value, or trimming a few minutes off his travel time.
My question is: What’s a countryside without country roads? My answer is: A place on the way to becoming a suburb. As you might guess, I’m not a big fan of the V-DOT mantra, “widen straighten pave.”
Bruce and I are different in many ways, but we get along just fine. I told him that, up until ‘94 or ‘95, I hunted deer up there beyond his place where a couple of houses have gone up; it’s posted now, like most of the hollow. He laughed when I told him I thought city people were a little more skittish about near-by gunfire than country people.
Bruce knows quite a bit
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