The Delta
|
Hey y'all,
I grew up in Marshall County, MS, which is the extreme westernmost edge of the Appalachian foothills, just a mile and a half or so from the county line. On the other side was Tate County, which contains the far easternmost edge of the Mississippi Delta. So, I literally grew up at the intersection of Appalachia and the Delta, two strong cultures that are very, very different.
I'm in North Mississippi for work this week, and Thursday, I found myself in the Delta. It's a fascinating place, sometimes called by outsideres the most Southern place in the world. It is certainly distinctive - the roads go for miles, the trees border the fields that sit fallow this time of year, and, perhaps most distinctively, when you head north towards Memphis, the giant bluff is on your right, marking the border to The Hills.
The bluff is huge, a veritable wall in some places, and it runs more or less from Memphis to Vicksburg, and on the east of it are The Hills, the magical place that is home to me in a way nowhere else is. And the transition is just that stark - Highway #3 is on a piece of land as flat as anything they have in Kansas, and yet a mile to your left is a wall of earth, topped with trees, and you turn on Highway 4 and immediately go up a hill and turn a corner, into a forest, and then you are in rolling hills that do not stop until you get to the low country of down east North Carolina.
And as I was driving yesterday, doing exactly that route - #3 to #4, up the hill, around the curve, and into the hills, I found myself breathing easier. A friend from the Hills in NC joked, when he visited Kansas, that he didn't quite feel safe there because there wasn't any place to hide. I feel that in the Delta. The wide open spaces, the sky as you face westward that fills the whole field of vision, the roads that you can see down for miles - all of it is unsettling.
But The Hills! They hold magic and mystery, are filled with animals and wonder, and surprises wait around every bend in the road, and there are many of both bends and surprises. The woods, the hills, the rocks and the ridges - all home.
It felt magical. Because I'm on the road this week, and because I'm waiting for my new laptop to arrive, I am cobbling this week's letter together on a tiny Chromebook on sketchy wifi, and so it will be short. Thanks for bearing with me.
This week, I wrote a vulnerable, unedited piece on my blog about some feelings I had on that trip down HWY 3 and wrote a note to my 15-year-old self.
There must be something about this time of year, because last year, on the blog, I was writing about how grateful I was to have moved back to Mississippi and how that happened.
I hope you like these pieces- if you do, reply to this email and tell me about it.
FYI
While on the road, I have been listening to podcasts and wanted to highlight this one: The Happiness Lab, with Dr. Laurie Santos, is about the difference between what we think our brains want and what they actually need to be happy. All of the episodes are good, but this one, on how to be a better ally to marginalized people, was wonderful. Highly recommended.
My ancient laptop was a fine beast - a heavy Thinkpad with extra RAM and extended batteries - but it was getting slower and slower. It was time for a new one, but I am always change-resistant, so I bought another heavy Thinkpad, with extra RAM and extended battery life. What can I say? I like my routines.
Thank you!
Like all my projects, this newsletter is a reader-supported publication paid for by my members. I can only do it because people like you buy me a cup of coffee or forward this letter to someone else. And if someone did forward this to you, you can get your own subscription here.
Take care,
|