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Fuzzy Face
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Fuzzy Face So I moved up to "my mountain" in January. It was freaking COLD up here, especially for a South Carolina boy living in and around Myrtle Beach. Saw snow for the first time in ten years. Decided it was time to stop shaving, and hopefully, in that way, save at least part of my face from frostbite. BRRR! So, I broke up with my razor and just let it grow. Before long, I looked passingly similar to the dudes that hung out down at Wolf Glade, which is the little gas-n-sip convenience store a few miles from the house (and my go-to place for<b> supplies </font></b>when I don't feel like hauling my ass all the way into town). I kinda got used to it, but discovered the downside last week...damn it gets hot! So - I shaved off all but a goatee and now find that I kinda miss it. not sure if I'll let it grow back or not. At any rate - beard or beardless, I'm loving living here, and I can't imagine a better place to write. The land feels alive here. There's a quiet energy to the place that just can't help but jump start the imagination. The best part? I don't think I've locked my door since I've been here. Oh - and the night! Absolute, uncanny darkness. No sounds of traffic. No neon lights. Just pure blackness and quiet, but that's not quite right....there's a chorus of sounds each evening. All the sounds that get drowned out by our mechanized lifestyles...they appear as gradually as the evening itself and it's a wonderful way to sleep. And on that note - I'm heading to Wolf Glade to get a couple of Redbulls for tonight's writing. |
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