All's quiet today in Grape Creek. First responders are shopping in Murphy or enjoying some college football or maybe fishin' in Lake Hiawassee. Goldenrods and asters speckle the roadside meadows making a bunch of hot hyperbole in the late afternoon sun.
Secretly I wish for the sirens. For the red door to roll away, for the mad scramble. Fathers and neighbors with an adrenalin rush. Dee hangs the 'store closed' sign on the door. Charley drops his wrenches. Albert shuts down the mower. Poppa jumps from his nap. "Brush fire at LaGrange." Even Bill Bowen the village drunk can hold the hose for a momentary boost to his shattered esteem. It's Keystone cops, but a proud and exciting time for me.
Today, all's quiet in Grape Creek. Goldenrods and asters speckle the roadside meadows making a bunch of hot hyperbole in the late afternoon sun.
© r1124-02 Grape Creek Firehouse
© r1123-33 Goldenrod Meadow
Grape Creek, North Carolina
Saturday 23 September 2000