Roots and Wings

This past weekend: Red Wing Roots Music Festival.

Red Wing started in 2013, but this was the first time I've been able to go. And let me tell you, this will not be the last.

It was chock full of thousands of people having a spectacularly good time. Roots music + good food + sunshine + great people = that perfect summertime feeling.

Natural Chimneys turns out to be a great festival venue.

The Steel Wheels: the heart and soul of the festival.

Henna.

There was this great sense of community, too. I saw tons of people I knew, but probably wouldn't have run into otherwise during our time in Virginia. And besides knowing lots of people, there was a sense of kinship among us. Even people I hadn't met before felt like less than strangers.

We had all come together from different places and different lives, but for the same reasons. In the midst of a week of tragedy, I needed that.

One idea that stayed with me throughout the weekend was that roots music is -- like it sounds -- deeply rooted in a sense of place.

Again and again, I listened to songs with lyrics about the Shenandoah Valley, the Blue Ridge Mountains, the very specific and very familiar sights of back-country Virginia. This music draws its inspiration from communion with nature, the joy of togetherness, and a powerful love of the land.

It's especially interesting for me, having lived most of my growing-up years in the Shenandoah Valley, but having fallen in love with Colorado during the last year. It was good for me to hear (through music) other people's reasons for falling in love with Virginia. People who chose it for its own merits, not because of having grown up there.

These lyrics from "Rescue Me, Virginia," sung during The Steel Wheels' set on Saturday night, felt especially appropriate.

I love the West-- Colorado is a promise I could keep
She's younger and wild
But those aren't the mountains calling me

[this is where a hearty cheer goes up from the listening crowd]

Oh, I'm not from here 
But this is where I want my roots to grow
And all the miles that I've traveled
It's good to finally find myself at home

Oh, rescue me, Virginia, rescue me
Sing the songs from the ancient, wash me in the sea
Oh, rescue me, Virginia, rescue me
Oh, rescue me

I've always liked that saying that goes something like this: "There are two lasting gifts we can give our children. One is roots. The other is wings."

Virginia gave me roots, and sometimes it takes experiences like this weekend for me to appreciate the value of those roots.

Colorado has given me wings, though, and for that I am overwhelmingly thankful.

At some point (in the relatively near future), I'll have to make decisions about the next few years of my life -- mostly about where to live. I know that will be difficult. But for now, I'm trying my best to be thankful for both places and what they mean to me.

It makes a difference where you go
It makes you different where you go

That, I know, is the truth.