The Middle of Nowhere

When we describe where Walnut Hill is to someone, I normally hear the phrase "in the middle of nowhere", during the conversation.  It is in the country.  There are far more trees than people.  There are farms rather than subdivisions.  There are critters rather than pets.  The roads wind and the land rolls.  There are stars rather than streetlights and stop lights.  There are frogs that croak and crickets that chirp rather than sirens that blare and engines that roar.

I think there is a preconceived notion that there is nothing to do in "the middle of nowhere".  There are no movie theaters or malls.  There are no fast food restaurants.  There aren't even sidewalks.  And there is very little (and I'm talking nano here folks) cell service.

So, the minute my children return from the "middle of nowhere", why would they ask when they get to go back?  The "middle of nowhere" is where shoes become an afterthought and boundaries don't exist.  You become king of the forest and a pilot in the clouds.  Your imagination rules your world. You explore and discover and build and play.  And when your dirty toes get tired, you can swing to the stars.  And when you've grown weary of playing in the stars, you can rest in the love of your Memaw and Papa.

Well, as it turns out, the "middle of nowhere" happens to be smack-dab in the "middle of somewhere".