From Nanocarbon Love

***

The sun was out but the skies were still a little bit gray. I could smell the diesel in the air as I walked, and I saw some of the bluegrass crowd starting to gather on the town square, around the stage.

A wizened old man with a long beard brushed past me, but he didn't say anything. He just kept trudging along, leaning on his cane. His eyes darted from one side to another, from person to person. He looked like he was trying to figure out what everyone was looking for, or how they were supposed to act. He had that haggard look about him that said he'd been lost for a long time and wasn't sure how he'd ended up here, or why he kept going forward instead of going back where he came from.

I couldn't blame him for being confused. Oak Valley wasn't much to look at -- a lot of small towns like this one don't have much in the way of charm when it comes to their downtowns. There was the post office, which had closed down ten years ago after they consolidated service with an hour's drive away into a bigger city. There was a library that had been open three days a week just enough to keep getting funding and not enough to actually be useful. There was an old department store that had been turned into condominiums for people who wanted to live *in* town vs those who wanted to live *near* town, which is basically the same thing but with more legal costs involved in selling units there than selling units somewhere near town. The hardware store had closed down and been replaced by an outdoor equipment shop that catered mostly to hunters and hikers and climbers, because there really isn't much call for supplies if all you're going to do is go into your backyard and do some gardening or work on your house or whatever else normal people do without having to resort to mountain climbing gear. Oh yeah, there was also a church on the square too, which... well... don't even get me started on that one. It's like somebody apparently got confused about what kind of place this was supposed to be when they decided where it would be best suited to put their statue of Jesus and all their "pro-life" signs and such. This is definitely not *that* kind of town, thank God.

You know what though? I think that might actually be part of why I love it so much here in Oak Valley: because it's *not* that kind of town at all. This place may be small, but somehow it manages to straddle two worlds: it's a place where people can live normal lives and take care of their families and find happiness in simple things -- stay home on Friday night and watch TV with their kids or play video games or whatever just-plain-normal stuff most kids in America do these days -- while also being able to enjoy themselves outdoorsy-like if they want without having to worry about being judged by anyone else for doing so (I mean there are probably plenty of people who'll roll their eyes when they see you walking through town with hiking boots on your feet and trekking poles in your hands next time you go out shopping in this place, but nobody actually gives you dirty looks like they might elsewhere). That's what makes this place special; it's got something for everybody, no matter what style you prefer: whether you want to live in the city or the country or right smack dab in between them both (and have easy access both ways too), Oak Valley has something for you if you're willing or able to give it a chance. They even opened up a brand new WalMart last year when some other developer decided opening one would be a good idea in that neighboring city we mentioned earlier -- yes I'm talking about that same WalMart where someone shot up dozens of people recently, especially since I'm from out-of-state so I'm not quite sure why someone would choose *that* Walmart over one here in Oak Valley *coughcough*. But yeah: WalMart opened up last year on Highway 52 West (which is how I got my job) and business has been booming ever since then!

It's funny... leaving New York City didn't feel like running away at first; it felt more like running toward something instead! Maybe it was just running toward more opportunity than I would have found there? Maybe it was running toward something better than living paycheck-to-paycheck while working sixty hours at minimum wage jobs just trying to make ends meet? Maybe it was running toward finding myself again? Whatever the reason -- whatever combination of reasons -- leaving NYC felt like such a big leap in my life... maybe even bigger than when I left college suddenly after getting kicked out due to various personal issues involving drugs. But now... now I think leaving NYC feels like less of a leap than moving here does! It feels like it should've been obvious from the start that this is where