Whenever I tell most people where I live, they laugh. They laugh because Moncure is tiny, with its total land area not even reaching five square miles. It’s unincorporated, having no official police department and a volunteer-only fire department. People laugh at Moncure because the school population hardly tops 250 and because the only establishments are two convenience stores, an ABC Store and a post office. But what people don’t know about my hometown is, well, everything.
I live in the middle of the woods. My neighbors are scarce, all out of eyesight and earshot. Whenever I used to walk home from the bus stop, I was prepared for a mile-long hike. I have to wake up at 5:55 every morning just to be to school on time, and the closest grocery store is 15 minutes away. There is not a single stoplight in the whole town, but I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I love everything about where I live. I can’t see streetlights or hear cars from my house. I love that I can sit on my porch and see nothing but woods. I have a place to keep horses, chickens, dogs, cats, goats, pigs, whatever. I feel so lucky to live somewhere that feels like home for me. There’s a reason people complain about the drive out but keep coming back regardless. Driving into Moncure you can find a sign welcoming you with the line, ‘Moncure: A community of artists”.
People don’t understand how my community really is. Having a town with a small population doesn’t mean it’s isolated and boring; it means that the people who do live there are tight knit and friendly. I can name each of my neighbors in order for miles down the road. Everyone here knows and interacts with each other. Having a low population isn’t a downside at all; it brings us together more than anything.
My town is quiet, and is often used as a pit stop for road trips and a hang out for truckers. If you want to visit the nearest city, be prepared to drive 20 miles or more. On summer nights, the sound of cicadas dominates every other noise. In the fifth grade, I told my mom I hated where we lived, because all my friends lived in town and could walk to a destination. I envied having everything in one place and I longed to hear the sound of a car whoosh by or be able to see a streetlamp come on in the night hours. I wanted to be anywhere else besides where I was. It took me a long time to love being stuck in the middle of nothing.
There’s a saying by George Washington Carver that goes, “Nothing is more beautiful than the loveliness of the woods before sunrise.” I am fortunate enough to experience that every single morning. I love where I live, I am proud of where I live and I would not trade it for the world.
– By Zoe Willard