And so the crickets chirp, but slowly, on this cool October night, and the soft autumn moon lingers over kudzu-draped trees. On cue, a freight train rolls along the tracks down over the ridge, barreling toward Lynchburg.
And Elizabeth Cotten sings:
And then, on cue, starts the coyote serenade, and I wonder if hoboes on that train tonight hear that lonesome howl.
And I’m thinking that a song by Virginia’s own Miss Patsy Cline would be the perfect soundtrack tonight as I sit writing in my studio at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts.
And this evening has been as refreshing as a sip of sweet tea and as sweet as a magnolia’s first bloom.