There’s no place quite like this. Endless woods untouched by humans. Dirt roads are perfect after a rain storm for muddin. The main roads here don’t belong to cars, they are for tractors hauling cattle and hay down yonder.
Every Sunday, church bells call to these small town folk, reminding them that this is God’s country. Family get together’s beside a bonfire watching fire flies light the night. Summer days spent out on the river jumpin’ off boats or cliffs. Fishin, huntin and cruising the back roads are all things that they’ve done a million times.
When Friday Night Lights are on you know where the whole town is. Cheering on their boys as they face long time rival teams. Post game win or lose the town gathers round a local restaurant to fill their sweet cravings.
Some family roots are deeper than a 100-year-old oak tree. Generations worth of farming and huntin’ on these lands. Some members venture out and grow new roots else where but somehow they are always drawn back to their southern roots.
Once you live in a small town and have some ties to the community you’ll never escape the home-town feel when you go back. ‘Round here we look after one another as if you’re one of our kin folk. In times of tragedy/trouble the whole town mourns with one another or pulls together and searches for hope.
This is more than southern hospitality —
a community — a family.