Spring in the Blue Ridge

Bro 2 lived in North Carolina for awhile, and it was always a treat for this midwesterner to go visit him. The North Carolina that I saw, primarily western and central, was incredibly beautiful: smoky blue mountains softening to gently rolling hills, mile after mile of jewel-toned rhododendrons or "rhodies."

I fell in love with Asheville, as does just about everyone who visits, but I fell in hate with Biltmore; it struck me as pretty creepy. The idea of massing that level of wealth during the early industrial revolution, when thousands of families struggled just to put food on the table. I don’t deny its beauty... but what a monument to excess, to conspicuous consumption, to an almost-successful attempt to establish a class system in the USA. On a spiritual level, I found it horrifying: let them eat cake, indeed. But Asheville? If it’s not the most beautiful city in the U.S., it’s in the top five.

On another visit, we enjoyed a several-day timeshare on Lake Lure, which has to be one of the best-kept secrets in the country. Again, spectacular scenery, painful paradox between new wealth and old poverty.

Bro’s home base was Winston-Salem, or WinSay, as the locals call it. There’s a lot of construction going on as it becomes more and more “discovered,” but the city itself retains its original character and charm.

Even more than the scenery, which usually ranged from lovely to spectacular, I really fell for the people of NC. I know, there are good people and bad people every-
where, but in NC, most people were friendly and caring, interested and interesting.

We had a few laughs, Bro and I, over the language barrier. It’s more than a lilt, more than a twang, at least to our midwestern ears. I always think of the following exchange with his company’s receptionist, one of Bro’s first conversations after moving to WinSay.

Her: Didja see them flares on the highway today?
Bro: Flares? No, I didn’t see them. Was there an accident?
Her: No, it was flares, all along the highway!
Bro (confused): Flares.. all along the highway... was it a construction zone?
Her (exasperated): No, no, it was flares, silly. FLARES! You know, lahk daisies.
Lillies. FLARES.

So there you have it: yet another reason to love North Carolina. All the spring flares.