McClain's Musings: A New Home : A story of the general, a hunting buddy and others. And or a weekend recap.

As last Friday was coming to a close and the sun was setting. A rag tag group of boys were headed North to the valley of the river . Riding shotgun was the general whose old grey eyes lit up with excitement as we were escaping this prison called the city. Phones were powered down, the radio turned on ,and stress blew away as the window rolled down.

In the backseat was the hunting buddy. A true friend and partner in crime. We have grown up near each other our whole lives. When we were little kids and didn't know each other we still lived a street over from each other. My dad would go running in our old neighborhood and pass their house saying " dang that's a nice boat" (their family is just a little bit obsessed with ocean fishing).

As the sun was setting on a perfect evening we pulled up to paradise. The mountains were coated in shadows and the sky gleamed with the work of our creator. Ducks flew over on their way to the river, cows grazed , and calf's played . We the congregation of men gathered on the porch to watch this magnificent showing. The peace that this place evokes brings to mind the peace I once had not too far in the past. A place where the feeling of peace was just as evident.

As I sat there on that porch in that moment I realized that this place in time too shall pass on. My grandfather (the general) sitting and laughing with us. Our fathers sitting and teaching us. We as young men on the cusp of life waiting and watching anxiously to see what life has in store for us. But we must not look too far into the future . Sometimes tomorrow must take care of itself.

We rose early with dawn looking out the window at the dark , dark ,dark clouds that lay before. We rubbed sleep from our eyes and laughed as my dad fumbled around for his flashlight down the dark, narrow hallway of the Cornett homestead. The salesman that he is , he tried to coax out of bed and into our camo . " Guys get you're sissy butts out bed the weather is going to be great". "Mr. Cauthen , your joking right? The weather is calling for over 80% percent rain" my friend replied still half asleep. " Lets just go for it and see what happens". A cup of straight black coffee and a jimmy dean brought us back to life as we drove to the hunt woods.

We parked by the old cemetery ( very cool has graves of revolutionary soldiers, but really spooky. Looks like the one from Skyfall. ) and headed for the woods. We hunted most of the day except for a quick hardware store run around lunch.

As Saturday was drawing to a close my friend and I climbed the hill to survey his family land. It was in a word beautiful. As I sat there and enjoyed this hunt with my friend I also felt saddened. He is surrounded by his history all the time. While mine was sold on an auction block like cattle. But life is funny like that. We must create new traditions to continue the love of hunting , and love of fellowship with family and friends. Tradition , like the one we had at the farm is gone. If you had told me a year ago that I would be driving to a no name town in southern Virginia , I would have laughed and said "hell no I have a place 45 minutes away"( pardon my french) . But God ordains events in our lives to transpire to help us grow closer to him and to others.

This land in VA is a new home. A place of healing where I can go and be away from the world. A place where I can sit on the porch until the wee hours singing and talking with friends and family. I feel that Virginia has deep roots in my blood . My ancestor General Robert E. Lee was born and raised here and supported his state in the Civil war. My great grandmother hails from this state. The list goes on. I am not just a Carolina boy, but a Virginia one.

Now some pictures because you read through my incredibly long rambling.