Bye, Bye Boonetown

I graduate in ten days. Ten.

I can't believe it. Four years have gone by and I still can't believe that this is my backyard. I get to see this view every day.

I'm a big believer in trusting your gut. Sometimes it's hard to tune into that humming intuition-- like finding that great song on the radio when you're driving into town. there's so much static it's hard to hear the song. It's there. you just have to wait until your back within the county lines before the sound becomes clear. I knew when I first stepped onto campus nearly five years ago that this town was where I belonged.

"the mountains are calling and I must go." 

Four years here, I danced, stretched, and hiked my way through college. I learned so much. I found love and friendship. I grew into myself-- filled out my skin-- grew in the ways college is supposed to make you grow. Now that it's time to go, I've felt that same humming, a feeling in my gut that tells me while I'm done with college, I'm not done with this place.

A few weeks ago, I walked down the trail feeling the soft earth squishing underneath my feet. The skies had opened up and a torrential downpour soaked through my raincoat, drenched my hair and clothes, and saturated the forest. I looked up the umber trunks into the treetops in awe. Standing there, raindrops on my face, I felt the hum. I'm not done with this place.

Driving at rush hour, stuck in the typical 321 traffic with my windows rolled down and St. Paul & the Broken Bones on the radio, I felt the hum. I'm not done with this place.

Looking down into the Linville Gorge, I felt the hum.

the mountains are calling and I must leave, but I know I'll be back.

Love,

Madelyn

P.S. This song.