By Wes Melville
Some nights, it feels like we’re being watched over.
There’s a certain comfort when the valley floor shines bright, illuminated by the moon with the surrounding mountains cast as silhouettes. From my porch I see the fine symmetry of the farm and the livestock easing into the evening. Across the open pasture, smoke lifts from the neighbors’ chimneys. They too came here for the isolation and perceived safety.
On those nights, when the moon shines brightest, the valley reminds me of our salvation. We traversed these mountains and dropped far down into this valley to start anew, escaping the lumber town and its saloons and vices. Before they were pushed out, the Cherokee guarded this valley. They called it Cataloochee, an ode to the “waves upon waves of mountains” that surround these fertile pastures. To them, it was a sanctuary. While we till this land for sustenance, they left it seemingly untouched.[Read more…] about Once in the Valley