These photographs do not represent the Madison County I have lived in, and loved, for the last forty-seven years. These are not the people I have considered friends and neighbors since I’ve called this place home. Yes, evil and hatred have always been here; they’ve never been hard to find if one took the time to look. But the anger has mostly stayed hidden quietly beneath the surface, occasionally rearing its head in the form of protests against asphalt plants, or “we still pray,” or development. People, neighbors, had learned to be around one another, even though the “other” might have radically different opinions and cultural habits. There was a mutual respect and the knowledge that the “other” would always be there in time of need, like a good neighbor. I sense that attitude has changed. We seem to have lost the ability to be tactful with our differences and find common ground with all our community members.
I think about that often, common ground, and ask what is the common ground within our increasingly diverse population? I start with the mountains themselves. I can say with certainty they are sacred for all of us. We live here because of the mountains and the role they play in our lives. Newcomers and born-in- county residents choose to be here because we all appreciate what the mountains mean to our very existence.
We’re in a bad place now, both in our county and in our country. The divisions are sharper, more pronounced, and the displays of vehemence more blatant and ugly. Groups of people seem unable to accept any outcome they disagree with and invent their own facts to fit any situation. Society cannot function if there is no agreement about what is truth. I fear things will only get worse.
Walking today in the mountains surrounding our home, the dogs chasing squirrels and flushing grouse as we walk, the leaves beginning their change, the light more angular, I’m struck, as always, by the quiet. This million-of-years old granite beneath my feet doesn’t say much. But it does offer stability, firmness, and the belief it will always be here. Its change is so slow and meticulous. Trees age and fall, slabs of rock sheer off, hillsides collapse, all of it happening over time, years, ions.
And I ask, what is the mountain’s message for us?
Main Street, Marshall, NC 9/21