Days 3 - 7 Part Two: Piedmont, Missouri

Visiting my relatives is what brought me to Piedmont, Missouri but the experience was even more personal than that.  I attended school in Piedmont at least for some period of time in first grade and again in third grade.  I spent what felt like every weekend in Piedmont from early childhood through high school.  During summers I would spend a week with one or the other grandmother.  And one fateful summer, my parents and sisters went off to Columbus, Ohio and left me with my grandparents.  If I had any teenage social life, it was during that summer.  Of course I have memories from those times that are more personal to me alone, and are not part of family history per se.

The first realization upon turning onto the highway travelled  in my youth was that more than twenty years of growth changes the landscape significantly.  Roads were canopied that were once simply lined by trees.  Where once I saw an empty field, I saw homes and businesses.  I remember clearly salvage yards and abandoned wrecks rusting here and there.  Those were not in evidence on this trip.  The road that once caused car sickness with its twists and turns, seemed a pleasant winding road.  Rather than a torturous route full of potential for accidents, it was a driver's delight, full of interesting sights and enough curves to keep one focused on driving. 

The same was true of the town itself.  Over twenty years of businesses coming and going, buildings going up or being torn down has changed the face of Piedmont.  It starts sooner and ends later as one travels the main road through it.  When we rode to the top of the hill my grandmother lived on and that I as a girl remember visiting frequently, it was clear that here, too, nature has gone unchecked.  Not only can the house not be seen from town, the town can't be seen from the hill.  A very different perspective, I can tell you.  No more the grand view and accompanying feeling of majesty.  Just another house on a hill in the woods.  And not a very impressive house at that.

I also have a personal affinity for hill country.  I can't prove it but I truly believe that the need for hills is encoded in my DNA.  I can travel across the flat lands of Ohio, Indiana, and Illinois and appreciate their unique beauty but when I find myself in rolling hills, my appreciation is felt right down to my bones.  My spirits lift.  My mind clears.  I feel more alive.  The Ozarks definitely felt like home.  Add that it's spring.  Ah, the wonder of it.  Red buds in full bloom blushing here and there among the trees.  Dogwood, too.  Small leaves of butter green creating a haze around what were only a few days ago bare branches.  The waters of the creeks, branches, and streams run clear.