This is the enchanted place I grew up, except it didn’t look like this to my younger, restless self. It looked like a liquorless, gossipy town with nothing worthwhile playing at the downtown theatre and only a couple of diners with a cup of coffee worth a damn. I used to stare down the jagged, misty landscape that dared me to even try to leave.
Now, the town is no longer dry and there are endless choices of big-box restaurants and fair-trade, organic anything. The highway in has been widened and I can no longer find the gravel turnoff to my childhood home. The new overpass looks like a styrofoam stage prop and that jagged, misty landscape stares back, just daring me to return.
I used to hate this place because nothing ever changed. Now I hate it because everything did.
Photography by David Allen Photography.