For me this photo sums up life in rural Appalachia. Sitting of a morning in a wooden rocker on the porch. Visiting two old mountain men who have hand built everything they own. Just relaxing and listening to the history of every dog they've ever owned. Which took about an hour. And led to the history of every horse they had too, the white horse being the smartest. :)

Story telling is a intregal part of the culture. And any subject can covered in great depth. A discussion on when the chesnuts will fall can cover a history of past autumns dating back forty years.

So you set there, drinking a cup of coffee, eating a fresh pear and expound on anything that pops into your head, everyone having an opinion that is listened to with great gravity and thoughtfully considered and responded to. There are periods of silence while everyone ponders what's just been said because time is fluid and there is no hurry.

I was out of cell phone range and someone left a voicemail which caused the alarm to go off with it's electronic wailing. This caused great consternation. I showed them the phone. They were amused that anyone on the planet would want such a thing.

Back to Black Dog.

Black Dog is very protective. His owner, whose full name is Franklin Delano Roosevelt surname because he was born the day he was elected, was at the bottom of the lane when I pulled in.

Black Dog chased my car and he chased Black Dog with a scythe in his hand from cutting weeds, yelling at him to stop. Black Dog ignored him.

When I got out of the car, Black Dog was growling at me. I talked to him and he calmed down. But he never once stopped eyeing my every movement with great suspicion.

Black Dog is the son of the previous black dog who lived to be 14. He can go find, catch and kill snakes on command as did his mother. This is apparently a genetic disposition and they were never trained to do it. Many dead snakes have been found on the porch.

The time finally came for me to head out of the mountains and back into Princeton and Walmarts and Krogers and strip malls and traffic lights and cellphones. Someday, I will move into the hills. I won't be able to build my own place but I will find one that was painstakingly erected by someone else with a stone and mortar foundation and I'll sit on the porch every day and greet my visitors with some sweet tea and freshly picked fruit.