Hello from the coveted window table in the back of Panacea Coffee Company in the Historic Frog Level District of Waynesville. It’s early Saturday afternoon. The picnic tables just outside the window at Frog Level Brewing are already filled with locals and visitors alike sitting along Richland Creek.
With Labor Day Weekend around the corner, the summer beginning its steady transition to fall, this spot on the calendar is meant for deep reflection as to what came to pass from Memorial Day onward to the here and now. A lot of you have already sent your kids back to school and are settling into the rhythm of that organized chaos, while others are desperately squeezing the last drops of summer out of their beach towels, the cool mountain air of recent mornings being the canary in the coal mine of the impending foliage season.
For myself, I’m part of the latter camp, trying to pack in as much nice weather and time outside soaking in the late summer sunshine, whether it be sitting on a beach, swimming in a lake or running a mountain trail. I’m not ready to start dragging my fall/winter running clothes from the depths of my closet. Truth be told, being a native of the North Country, I love cold weather, so I’ll tough it out with just shorts and a T-shirt until the turkey gets served on Thanksgiving.
No matter, for any day you get to wake up and wander out the front door into the world is a good day. Don’t forget that. I sure as hell don’t. If all you do today is meet a friend for an after-work beverage or simply work on some project you’ve been procrastinating, don’t let it be lost on you in how priceless those moments are: they’re as fleeting as they are precious. Real deal, intrinsic human interaction and seeking creative fulfillment are two things we need more than ever right now in this modern era of confusion and unknowns.
Case-in-point, last night I had an incredible evening of hearty conversation and scrumptious food at the home of two dear friends. To preface, I’ve been pretty much gone from Waynesville and greater Western North Carolina since early June, for work and play (but mostly work, as per usual). The route took me from Southern Appalachia to the Atlantic Ocean, up and down the entire Eastern Seaboard, out west to the Canadian Rockies and Montana, only to circle back to Florida and beyond. Planes, trains and automobiles, in truth. Thousands and thousands of miles, all circling back to Haywood County. Endless miles to mull over the trials and tribulations of one’s heart and soul.
And I finally returned home last week. I reached out to my two friends to see if they were around and wanted to maybe grill out before the summer comes to a close. They’re a beloved married couple I’ve known for almost the entire 14 years I’ve lived in WNC. Throughout all those years of being kindred spirits, we’ve had countless adventures together and collected many stories along the way. We’ve also been there for one another whenever there’s been heartache and hardships when it comes to our family, friends and other loved ones.
I hadn’t seen them in months and I could use some conversation between old friends amid cold suds, something that’s harder and harder to come by as we all get older, and with myself constantly on the move. It’s one thing to wander and ponder and meet amazing strangers by chance and happenstance (many becoming fast friends), but it’s another to happily circle back to those who know you the best and love you the most (and vice versa).
Friday evening. Motoring over to their home in West Waynesville, the picturesque late afternoon sunshine quickly shifted into thick cloud cover and thunderstorms in the forecast for the rest of the night. In that clear window to sit outside on the patio and throw some steaks onto their Little Green Egg, it was endless, bountiful chatter about nothing and everything (and everything in-between). It felt like I had just hung out with them yesterday, even though it was last winter: the sure sign of the eternal bond of genuine friendship.
Initially, the conversation hovered around the gateway topics that eventually led into deeper realms of our thoughts and actions. They asked how my parents back in Upstate New York were doing, what visiting British Columbia and Alberta earlier this summer was like, how things at the newspaper were going, what’s the latest with my work-in-progress bluegrass book, and endless curious queries as to who this new woman, Rebecca, was in my romantic life.
I asked how their son is doing in recently starting middle school, how their extended and aging family was getting along, what their summer was like bouncing between Waynesville and bucolic points along the South Carolina coast for sporadic weekend vacations, how work was going for their local business that he co-owns and she works at, and what the future may hold.
That final chapter of the evening’s dialogue (at least for now in this endless ongoing conversation between us) really teed up the manifesting they were currently conjuring to fruition. I’m also in the same boat. Within the trust of friendship, we each voiced our vision for our respective paths pushing forward, what the landscape, both geographically and spiritually, may look like, and hopefully will emerge as a daily reality in the coming years. Excitement shared from all sides of the conversation with each person painting a picture of their next step(s). Endless support and encouragement.
As the dinner came to a close, it was big bear hugs and rough sketches of plans for the next joyous rendezvous, maybe even do a double date when Rebecca comes to visit Waynesville in the next few weeks. They’re psyched to finally meet her. The feeling is mutual. Returning back to my humble abode apartment in downtown Waynesville, I called Rebecca to say goodnight. She asked how the dinner went and so forth. I replied, “You know, there are certain people you know you’re supposed to know in this life and on this earth, and they’re two of those folks in my existence.” The gratitude remains, always.
Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.