A song that makes me remember – or, an addition to #46

8 Jul

First, let me say that you can find out what the fudgemuffins #46 is all about by clicking here, and that you can find the list that #46 belongs to by clicking here. That being said, here’s the addition to #46 I’ve been putting off for several months. 

# Forty-Six (46)
The Third Song
“Take Me Home, Country Roads” – John Denver
(for full lyrics, click here.) 

I know, it’s super cheesy. I know it’s John Denver, but come on, it’s classic American wonderfulness! 

This song, and actually most everything by John Denver, takes me way back to a time before breasts and boyfriends, the alphabet and 1+1, and just about everything else. You see, while I was born in Virginia, I moved to West Virginia somewhere around the age of three, and remained there for about two and a half years.  I developed a deep, deep attachment to West Virginia.  It was the place where I met my first friends, the place where I started school, and the place where I started to really become a person, and not just a toddler (no offense to any toddlers reading this, by the way).

All my memories gathered round her
Miners lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrops in my eye

When we left West Virginia, sometime in January (note to my mother: yes it was January because the neighbors left their Christmas lights up for us), this song became the one song that summed up everything that West Virginia meant to me.  It was my song about going home, and somewhere in my little five-year-old head, listening to this song made me feel closer to the only place that I ever really remembered as “home.”

 Of course the chorus,

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads

always made me think of my real momma, and it was, for the five-year-old me, an appeal for her to take me home, back to West Virginia.

Oddly enough, right after we left West Virginia, we moved to Winchester, VA, which is also in the mountains.  It just wasn’t the same though.  I missed not only the mountains that I grown to love, but my friends, the rolling hills that made up our property there, and, West Virginia itself. 

Almost heaven, west virginia
Blue ridge mountains
Shenandoah river –
Life is old there
Older than the trees

I’ve got to say, those Blue Ridge Mountains still do pull me home.  I love Richmond, I really, really do.  Richmond has come to represent many things to me, but after a while, after city life starts to wear on me, I’ve got to escape, hit the road, weave myself through the hillside and into the mountains and back to my Mom’s house for some fresh air, some star-gazing, and a few views of the softly rolling mountains that make up the Blue Ridge. 

Lastly, so that this post is at least a little bit informative, I’d like to share with you that the Blue Ridge Mountains are the oldest mountains in the United States, which explains why they are quite a bit smaller than other mountain ranges, like the Rockies.  The Blue Ridge Mountains are all old and wisened and whatnot, while the Rockies are young and restless. 


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