Late Fall in the Piedmont

North Carolina stretches from the shores of Cape Hatteras to Mount Mitchell in the Appalachian Mountains, which peaks at 6,684 feet. That’s quite a change from sea level! In between there is a flat, transitional area known as the Piedmont. That is where I live. It was once an area rich in farms, with barns such as these almost everywhere you turned. Of course, that has changed drastically, which is why we photograph the ones which are still standing, and in operation. This is Bost Grist Mill in Eastern Cabarrus County.

 

The early settlers came to the region by land and sea. In the Piedmont area there aren’t many ocean going vessels to be seen; that is unless you count this old “prairie schooner.” But without a team of oxen to take you over the deeply rutted roadways, and up the steep inclines of the mountains, let’s just say that you weren’t going too far in one day. About 20 miles per day on flat prairie land was top speed for this baby.

 

Eventually technology came to the area and brought new machinery with it. This is what I want for my next vehicle - a steam driven, energy efficient tractor. I would love to pull up next to somebody at the light while driving this baby! It even has a steam whistle in case someone doesn’t notice you.

And, finally, as you get further up in elevation, the ground of Central North Carolina boasts the first large scale gold find in the United States. We even had a U.S. Mint here during the 1800’s. Much of the gold came from Reed’s Gold Mine in Cabarrus County; which is where I live today.  We also boast the largest emeralds in the world, some of which have been dug up as recently as last year. As for me, the only thing of value I have picked up in the area  was a gold hoop earring which sold for $50 as scrap.

Late fall is a wonderful time for taking a drive and watching the seasons change right before your eyes; sometimes several times in one day! We have a joke here in North Carolina; we maintain that we have 4 seasons, just like everywhere else; Summer, winter, summer, winter. These beautiful days in between are just a mistake.

"Grandma Moses" by Herself (1948)

I must confess to having been entirely ignorant on the subject of Grandma Moses until I found this old treasure in the “stacks” at the Mooresville Town Library. I had heard the name , but for some reason I have always associated it with being a slave narrative, of which I have read several. So, I just never got around to it until last week.

Imagine my surprise to find out that Grandma Moses was an elderly white woman who began to paint landscapes at the age of 80! Born in New York State in 1860, she recalls the Civil War, and her family’s move to Virginia after the war had ended. Her father worked at several different trades, including farming, and the author recalls all the hardships, and rewards, of that bygone era.

Candid in every respect, the manuscript was actually pieced together from several different interviews and magazine articles written by the author over the course of several decades. There is nothing written here which was not proof read by Grandma Moses, and her family, before its release.

What you get is an unpretentious look at a woman who worked hard for many years, raising 5 of the 10 children born to her. The other 5 died. The book serves as a window into a time when you didn’t name your kid right away; you first waited to see if it lived. With her nimble mind, and capable husband, the two forged out a living in Chicago, Upstate New York and even Virginia, which was her first love. Most of her paintings are evocations of life in her beloved Shenandoah Valley.

A very quick read, with full color illustrations of some her best known paintings, this book will introduce you to a unique American woman. That she was unafraid to completely change the course of her life at such a late age, and have such great impact upon the art scene; so far removed from the life she had lived; should serve as an inspiration to us all that it is possible to live your dream. You have only to discover what that dream is…