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.