Take me home...

There are a few things in this world that take my breath away and make my heart ache, and that silly little lump in my throat.

The National Anthem

My son

My husband

Seeing the first swell of the Appalachian Mountains when we go home to West Virginia.

That first glimpse of either the Peaks of Otter near Bedford VA, or the Highlands near Charlottesville Va gives me that ache and brings a lump to my throat everytime.

I just suddenly have the urge to belt out 'Take Me Home, Country Roads' at the top of my lungs.

I want to giggle.

I want to get out and spin around.

But we just keep driving, and soon that exhilaration turns into aggravation from having to follow the tractor trailers creeping up those wonderfully steep slopes, and then careening down the other side with those big rigs pushing my little tail all the way.

But its still the most wonderful sight in the world.

I've seen it in the middle of the night with a full moon and stars casting.

I've seen it in the colorful fall.

I've driven those mountains in snow so thick I had to guide myself by the lights built into the sides of the road.

I've seen it in the barren seasons when they look brown and desolate.

The most beautiful is the lush green of summer...with the sun sparkling, the blue sky, and that breathless view as you top one ridge and look out to the next.

My son, the first time I took him home to my parents by myself, was introduced to the mountains for the first 'real' time. I got so excited to see Peaks of Otter, and kept exclaiming, "look at the mountains baby!" He caught on to the enthusiasm and was soon peering around the edges of his car seat at the giants looming up around us.

I explained we were going to Nana and Pawpaws in the Mountains (as his other Nana and Pawpaw live in North Carolina)...see the Mountains baby! He busted out with "Can I touch them?" I remember smiling.

Of course you can darling. You can touch them. You can listen to them. You can talk to them. You can marvel at them. You can climb them. You can breathe them. You can let them enter into your soul and never let go. You can raise your arms and just let them lift you.

There's just something about going home. I relax.

I never relax.

But pulling across that state line, and beeping the car horn as we wave at it, I just relax.

The life is slower.

The details are fuzzier.

The mountains just reach out and wrap their big arms around me, and I sink in. Just want to pillow my head in a holler and snuggle down between two ridges and just disappear into the fields below. I just want to sit and breathe, and listen. To nothing.

The crickets, the frogs, even the coyotes yowling...its just part of that song.

I went to NY City once, and I walked around with my mouth hanging open and gaping at the skyscrapers and the city around me.

I live near a fairly large city now, and commute through it every day.

But nothing is more awe inspiring or worth gawking at than those rolling hills and proud peaks.

Yes, WV has it's issues, and we have our stereotypes, but I am so proud to say I am a hillbilly. My family has been there for over 200 years, and my roots are soooo deep that I can almost feel them reach up and wrap around my toes when I step out of the car.

I cry when I see the mountain top mining videos. God created those mountains. Mother Nature formed them with her hands and breath and birth waters. We, as man, cannot destroy like we have done and expect no repercussions.

I understand the need for jobs. Why do you think I had to move so far away?

I understand the need for power. I am not so naive to think that my laptop spawned itself and runs on rainbow juice.

But how can we do what we are doing? How can the screams of those ancient grandmothers not be heard when they blast off the chunks of her beautiful face, scalp her locks, dig deep, take her heart, and then like a cat covering their mess, paw it back over, tamp it down, and move on.

Then the flooding comes.

The the landslides.

The Pollution.

It just makes me mourn. It hearts my heart.

One of my family's first settlements in Wyoming County WV is under such attack. And there is nothing that can be done now to save that ridge.

But our voices will be heard. They will echo from holler to holler, and canyon to canyon...What is the Appalachians without her mountains? Really? A flattened desolate unstable scar.

Mountain Top mining does not mean more jobs. It takes seven men to bring down a mountain. Not a fleet of workers and laborers. Seven men. And equipment. Like a cat scratching over their mess.

What a legacy we leave our children, who haven't touched the mountains face.