Georgia Girl

I’ve been living in Social Circle, Georgia, for almost eight years. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve gained some insights into living in a rural area, away from the big city. And, in the past few months, I’ve become more acutely aware of how I’ve become a small town Georgia girl.

When I started my new job at Amtico International in Madison this past January, my life changed dramatically. It wasn’t that I was beginning a new job, but it had more to do with the people I found myself surrounded by. In every other job I’ve had since I’ve been back in the workforce, I’ve been either in downtown Atlanta or in the suburbs. Even though I moved to small town Georgia, I was still part of the city scene. Things are different now. And I like it.

As I meet folks who work in the plant, they ask me where I live. I tell them that I live in Social Circle, after which they tell me where they live. People come from Newborn, Greensboro, Buckhead, Jersey, Monroe, Greshamville, Covington, and other neighboring towns to work at Amtico, and many live right there in Madison. I can’t think of anyone I’ve met who lives in metropolitan Atlanta. This part of Georgia is their backyard, and it extends for many miles radiating out from Madison. They are local people, for the most part, with a few transplants like me. When we talk in the breakroom, it’s about gardens and pets, children and grandchildren, Monday and Friday. Amtico, in my opinion, is set smack in the middle of Georgia’s heartland.

We don’t dress up for work. Amtico is a manufacturing plant, so those who work there wear their Amtico shirts, blue jeans or khackis, and steel-toed shoes. For the few of us in the office, we follow suit with casual dress. I love wearing my jeans and tennis shoes to work. My steel-toed shoes are tucked under my desk, to slip into when I need to go back onto the manufacturing floor. I gave all of my business suits to Goodwill last month, and I’m wondering if I’ll have a chance to wear my summer skirts that I like so much. Oh well, I think I can manage if they hang in the closet most of the season. I wouldn’t change jobs, just to be able to wear a skirt!

Another thing I’ve discovered is the morning sky. I’ve always loved watching the sunrise, but my new commute has revealed much more than what I was accustomed to seeing. I travel 15 miles east from my house to go to work, and it’s into the sun every morning. I’ve watched as the rising sun has moved across the horizon from winter to springtime, puzzling me about exactly where east is. I know that is has something to do with the tilt of the earth’s axis and the changing seasons, but it still amazes me, and I don’t quite understand it. The sun is now behind the upper left corner of my sun visor as I drive to work – three weeks ago, it was shining straight into my eyes, and two months ago, it was a little further to the right, peeking out from the horizon.

Instead of driving in morning rush hour traffic to work, I cross miles of farmland. I barely remember what rush hour in the city is like! For me these day, it’s meeting a vehicle at the four-way stop sign, which occasionally happens. Most of the time it’s a farm truck or tractor at the intersection, and sometimes a chicken truck. It’s not until I get to the last few miles of my trip to work that I hop onto I-20, going east, that I encounter any traffic, and it is always very light, especially in the direction I travel. I find that I have to put my car into cruise control, or I might drive too slowly along my way, I get so caught up in the beauty of my surroundings.

The land is changing with the coming of summer, as I watch the hayfields grow, which are then mowed down and baled. The spring wildflowers are spectacular, even though I’m experiencing spring hay fever that I’ve never had before. Rows of corn and other crops are beginning to define the farmland in lines of emerging vegetables. Wild blackberries are blooming along the fence rows, and tiny wild plums are fattening up in the thickets.

As the morning scenery changes, I realize that I am changing, as well. I promise myself that I will never get on I-20 West ever again to go to work. I don’t think about Atlanta, and have no desire to walk down Peachtree Street – I don’t think I’d mind if I never set foot on it again in my lifetime. The towns in this area of Georgia have everything that I need – delightful little restaurants, Saturday markets and outdoor concerts in town squares, grocery stores with locally grown produce, meat and eggs, doctors and dentists who are as good, or better, as the ones I knew in the city, and good, good people everywhere. I love hearing the whistle of the train in the distance, as it crosses the road about two miles from my house, and I enjoy hearing the braying of the donkey that lives down the road from us. I even don’t mind when a passing car stirs up dust on our dirt road.

I look forward to a day off from work, so that I can get out into my garden to pick strawberries or pull weeds. Soon, I’ll be spending all of my spare time picking and “puttin' up.” Our freezer is almost empty, ready for this season’s abundance of good food to store. The days are getting longer, the world is bright with greens, blues, and wildflower colors, and the warm sun on my skin reminds me that hot summer days will soon be here. I am learning patience, how to slow down to watch and wait, and how a prayer is always only a breath away.

Yes, for this Georgia girl, life is different than it used to be, and oh! so much richer!