Life in a Small Town

It is a telling fact that I grew up in a town not large enough to distinguish a Downtown or Uptown area, except in terms of those who live on the slight rise or those who live where the ground dips down a bit to meet the town creek.

It speaks of a woman who knows her neighbors; not only those next door, but the ones down the block and even the ones on farms outside the city limits. Children know each other from kindergarten through high school and are in Scouts or 4-H and those compelled to take their piano lessons from the same woman.

It speaks of a local "shopping center" consisting of a mom-and-pop grocery, a hardware store, a bank and automotive mechanic all within one short block of one another. The post office is just around the corner and down half a block, right next to the bar that also houses the town's one restaurant.  A single, well-loved pool table is all that divides the greasy spoon from the taps, its green felt worn in places, but no one minds, because the town's occupants are used to how the balls roll. On the whole the townspeople are honest, so any outsiders finding themselves pulled into a friendly game and losing are usually handed back their wager in the spirit of fair play.

Children, watching from the restaurant, munch their way through a hamburger and a pile of fresh-fried potatoes, while their parents play or visit with friends over a tall mug of the local brew. The food there is delicious, comes in generous portions and is served with an extra helping of grease.

Judging by the direction dust is rising from you can tell which farmers are harvesting their crops that day, and the local weekend Farmers Market vendors will sell to you even on a Tuesday if you run out of eggs. You don't even have to drive to them, as friendly farm-wives are only too happy to drop by with a dozen or two, and a jar of freshly canned preserves.

Children's summers are spent splashing in the creek, playing in the park or watching pennies being smashed on the local train tracks. Parents do not worry as any hi-jinks will be swiftly heard of through the parenting network. With the days rapidly cooling, school comes and once again the yellow bus comes to a stop at the end of the street. The leaves change color and crunch underfoot, and the scent of wood smoke fills the air. Pumpkins grin wickedly from front porches and Halloween candy is dispensed by the handful.

Snows soon follow, with children sledding on the rise down to the frozen creek below; only returning home once their noses and toes have frozen or once dinner time is reached. Neighbors shovel the walks of the elderly and only accepting payment of a cookie or a mug of hot chocolate.  On especially cold mornings the gray smoky tendrils from wood fires swirl in the air; the ghostly remains of the trees they once were.

Life in a small town may seem slow, but it is actually one of purposeful activity rather than the mad dash from one distraction to another. Small town residents take a certain pride in keeping their yards mowed, planters filled, family garden tilled and planted and doing it all themselves.

Is this still as true as it was in my youth? I'd like to say yes, though, with today's technology the definition of neighbor is broader. I now live in a modest college town that falls in the Goldilocks range of not-too-big but not-too-small. Its a good fit, though I think I could happily live in several of the smaller towns in the area.

It doesn't mean that I have anything against big towns, but they are too large and impersonal for my tastes. For me, the closeness you can get with people is always a worthwhile trade-off to having a vast selection of stores to shop at. Of course, there will always be those people in small towns that, no matter what, will give small towns a bad name. I should know, I have lived near them and more than once. It still doesn't change the fact that there is something about little towns tucked in the midst of fields or forests that just speak to me. Rural life is comfortable and fits like a well-worn, warm pair of cozy slippers or woolly sweater. Towns where there is no up or down or right or wrong. That same lonely train whistle and rattle of tracks are heard by those on either side, so why should it matter which side you're on? Oh yeah, because large towns keep track of that (no pun intended, but I will take it!)