The Magic of Asheville

Though not the place of my birth, I’ve always considered Asheville my home. Ever since I first crossed the North Carolina border on I-26 just at the base of the mountains, I have been hooked. I got through my last three years of college here, which I’m told were the best years of my life. Since I foresee the next few as being even better, I don’t think that is the reason this land holds such a tight grip on my soul. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the freak center of the universe in the third notch of the Bible belt. There is a certain symbiosis between the Christians and the pagans here that I’ve never quite understood, but the town maintains its peace. People have always asked me why I prefer the mountains to the beach – meditation always accompanying water as it does. I think it’s because you have to go to the beach. In the daily grind of contemporary society, that luxury is too often taken for granted. But in the mountains, you wake up in the morning, you drive to work, and beauty abounds. In any direction you look, you find serenity and awe. It’s a wonderful place to live.

This is an excerpt of The Rucksack Letters by Steve McAllister. Buy your copy of the eBook on Amazon.com.

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