My city is not a city, no more than a bare town that’s slowly growing. It’s got a Bi-Mart and a Safeway and a McDonalds—people never go there, though, just Big Burger across the street. It’s been here longer, and it’s not a chain, and my people here don’t like change.

The folks who live here aren’t slow by any means, but we like slow. We like watching the world subtly change around us, and we like taking our time as we live our life. We remark on the sunset every night, saying things like can’t believe it’s still light out! for half the year and can’t believe it’s already dark out! for the other half, accordingly.

It’s a town surrounded by the countryside, and there’s the great big Coleman ranch that’s got cows and horses and other animals. It’s so big there’s a road between their two giant fields, and you may not get stuck behind a red light but rather behind a tractor. You’ll wave and you’ll see Will, and everyone smiles and knows each other.

Speaking of red lights, we just switched out the four way red with an actual stoplight. This might seem weird and just regular to so many of you, but this was a shock to us! On Main Street no less! Less traffic, but the elders always complain it was faster and now this business is too far changed for anyone to accept.

And everyone knows each other, or someone knows someone who knows someone who knows him. Can’t go to the grocery store without being asked about my father, my grandmother. You look like Frieda! I remember when Greg just opened the studio, how long ago was that? I’ve stopped answering the question, it makes those folks feel a little older than they ought.

It’s slow but never peaceful! There’s always something going on with something or other. Like the moving of the cows, the gasp of the longhorn, the deer that hip-hop across the road like freestyle dancers breaking their necks. There’s a new family moving in and another going out, a business booming and slowing in rapid successions.

With the rains and the weather and the animals, folks never wear white unless it’s a fancy occasion, one that won’t risk the stains. Everyone’s cars are dusty in the summer and muddy in the winter, our shoes and jeans soaked knee deep in mud. No one cares, we’re all suffering the same fate, we just hand each other towels and laugh.

So many folks will overlook our town and move like moths to the bright lights of larger cities, where it’s all electric and fast moving and forward and hey, that’s good for them! But in my town, you look up and you can see the Milky Way’s belt and all the stars in the sky. You can walk in your backyard naked and no one will see. You can show up muddy and everyone will understand. It’s a community more than a town, and I’d never trade it for anything.

– Gratia Serpento