Appalachia Year

Let me go on the record: I know I'll miss it here.

I kept stumbling upon these little vignettes today that were downright cinematic. Turning a corner on my bike to see a canopy of trees lit up like a Polish church and perfectly framing the sun, fat as a grapefruit, setting behind an Appalachian foothill.

Or the ragtag six-piece marching band shuffling down the brick street, belching out big band standards and doffing their hats at girls in short dresses.