The Indigo of Home

As we crested the hill, I saw them – the tumbling layers of the Blue Ridge – smoky indigo against the pink sky of the setting sun.  Home. We had spent the day with good friends at a barbecue and then at the Relay For Life, where my dad had formed a team to...

Farming in the Blue Ridge

When people use the word “farm,” images of John Deere tractors often come to mind.*  People picture wide fields of crops.    But here in the Blue Ridge, the tradition of farming is linked to the tradition of the mountains – to smaller fields, herds,...