Ever heard of a 'holler'? I'm not talking about yelling. I'm talking about a small rising valley region between two hills or mountains; often containing a
creek. And though I DESPERATELY wanted a visual image to share with you, I just couldn't. Instead, allow me to use words to give you a mental picture of the photo that wasn't to be - and it all began with this sign. While driving toward Asheville, NC, I stopped at a little town and asked one of the locals if there was a scenic outlook I could take a picture of just off the interstate. I was directed to a beautiful river just beyond an exit ramp a few miles later which took me past this rugged church sign. Letting my curiosity trump my instincts, I followed the sign up a narrow one-lane gravel road. My assumption was that I would find the church at the top of the hill where I would get a panoramic view of the mountains. I forged upward into a steep and windy incline with very little room for error to avoid the steep drop-off on my left. The higher I drove, the more nervous I got. Suddenly I saw an old ramshackle dwelling to my right - the yard was filled with clutter and a couple of adults were sitting in the front porch. Standing guard in front of the porch was a bare-chested, rifle-toting adolescent boy. Erect like a soldier, his gaze was not at me, but straight ahead. I kept going, hoping I would soon find the church and get this thing over with. But, the road just kept winding endlessly and my anxiety level increased. Fearful that I might drop into oblivion, leaving my loved ones to wonder whatever became of me, I finally found a place I could carefully back into and turn around so I could return to civilization. As I re-approached the ramshackle dwelling, the boy remained in his soldier-like position, holding his rifle vertically. I wanted to take a photographic shot of him, knowing it would have been one of those once-in-a-lifetime captures, but my gut told me that one shot might just lead to another. And I wanted to live to tell about it.
