Welcome new subscribers! I’m glad you are here.
As a brief introduction to new folks, I’m a queer Southerner who has lived and loved in the American South for more than 60 years.
Through images and words, American South < - > Portugal: Loving, Leaving and Recreating Home explores three topics:
Things I love about the American South;
Frightening new laws, cases and actions by elected and appointed officials that further marginalize oppressed communities; and
My culinary travels and joys in Portugal, a democratic country more focused on community than the individual, and a place where I’m spending more time each year.
I also have a Portuguese language translation of this newsletter. Subscribers to this English version newsletter will not automatically be subscribed to the Portuguese version. To subscribe to the Portuguese version, please go to juliearing.substack.com and select Português. Click on any of the newsletters under that heading and subscribe.
The One Thing I Love
In each place I’ve lived, there has been an unexpected and delightful surprise that accompanied living in that home, in that location. After I bought my first home, a coalition of groups built a rails-to-trails bike path nearby. The trail was shaded by trees and streched on for many miles.
I bought a bicycle and spent hours cycling on the trail. Only a few people seemed to know about the trail during its first year. Now and then, another cyclist would speed by me. I enjoyed the breeze through the trees and the peaceful quiet.
Later my spouse and I moved to a mid-sized city located just beyond a much larger metro area. We never expected to see much wildlife in our neighborhood. In the early morning hours, I saw the occasional red fox when I walked our dogs. The animal’s thick tail was always the first sign I had spotted one of these beautiful creatures.
One morning, in the twilight, my two dogs and I saw a coyote across the street. The coyote looked back over his shoulder at my male dog, the one that usually had a big-dog bark for any fellow large dogs across the street that we encountered. This morning, there was only silence as the coyote and my largest greyhound looked at one another for a few long seconds. Perhaps my dog recognized wildness he wasn’t used to seeing. After a soundless, prolonged connection between these two canine creatures, the coyote moved on. We stayed still for a moment, taking in what we had seen, and then continued our walk.
If I woke up very early — or stayed up late — I could sometimes hear an owl in our back yard singing: “who cooks for you? who cooks for you?”
My spouse loved to look for the bats circling at dusk. She’d call me to come out on our deck and watch them. I was hopeful these creatures would eat as many mosquitoes as possible.
In our current home, we lived here for a year before I explored a large urban forest at the edge of our neighborhood. For months, I walked with my youngest dog to the benches at the edge of the forest and we sat there and rested before returning home.
Where did the paths into the forest lead? In a year, I never saw anyone entering or exiting this forest.
One hot day, I decided to seek cooler temperatures for my dog and me by walking in the forest instead of along the street. Paths, both dirt and paved, led through the woods. I didn’t see anyone. In the middle of a crowded metropolitan area, we were by ourselves enjoying the sounds of a creek and a few songbirds.
There were forks in the paths and a bridge over the large creek. We kept going until we were both ready to turn back.
The forest became our new walking route. My dog loved all the new sounds and smells. The first time she saw a family of deer cross our path, she was in awe. An adult deer paused and looked at my petite greyhound. How do deer recognize one another from a distance? My greyhound, who has no prey drive, was mesmerized. If I hadn’t been there, perhaps my greyhound would have approached the deer out of curiousity.
My dog with her big fawn ears, which always point up, has been mistaken for a deer by children. In the woods that day, I imagined my dog mixed in with the deer’s family. Visually, she would fit right in. Although dogs are commonly considered descendents of wolves, my greyhound looks much more like the relative of a deer.
After we returned home, my greyhound slept soundly for the remainder of the day. She was absolutely worn out by seeing her new forest friends and experiencing new sounds and smells.
As my greyhound and I began to walk in the woods more frequently, we saw a few individuals. Over time, some began to look familiar. One woman carried a large branch several inches thick and at least five feet long behind her back. Both of her elbows were bent and she held her forearms alongside her waist. The branch threaded its way through her bent arms and behind her back. Whenever I saw her, she was carrying the branch and walking briskly.
One day, I was sitting by the side of the trail and filling my dog’s portable water bowl with cool water. Even in the forest, it was humid and hot. The lady with the branch walked by and we struck up a conversation. By now, we were a familiar sight to one another. We shared thoughts about the area where we live. “I hate this city,” she said. “I have to lock my doors. I lock the car. People aren’t friendly. Maybe it’s because I’m not from here. I’m from the North.……. The one thing I love is this forest. I walk here every day, whether it’s hot, raining or cold. My body is made for this.”
The one thing I love is this forest.
My neighbor’s words have stayed with me.
Readers, what is the one thing you love about where you live? I hope you will let me know in the comments below.
