MARK BLACKWELL

Living in the country, a person learns that there are things that can be put off and there are things that necessitate immediate attention. You can put off painting the chicken coop for a while but if the chickens start disappearing, then you must take action and stick with it until the threat is dealt with.

In the case of disappearing domestic fowl, it is usually a predator like a weasel, raccoon, or hawk. First you must identify the offender, then find out how he, she, or it is getting to the chickens. That takes patience and diligence. You can’t just run off to the movies or down to the tavern. You have to stay home and plug the hole in the coop.

That’s where we are with this COVID-19 stuff. We have all been inside for a while now, and we might have a ways to go, but that doesn’t mean we can’t dream a little and get ready.

One thing about Brown County is its ability to inspire. I imagine that a lot of folks can’t really say what it is about the county that draws them here. I believe that it is the inspiration to appreciate nature with a more artful approach to life.

A good place to start might be to ask, “What makes Brown County a special place?”

The first thing that jumps to my mind is the scenery: the hills crowned with trees and veiled in early morning mist; or a winding path through the forest that beckons with the promise of a glimpse of Trout Lilies or morel mushrooms. It could be a fragrant, freshly mown backroads field of hay on a sunny afternoon.

Artists discovered our county’s scenic charms over a hundred years ago.

It was back in the summer of 1900, when a Chicago newspaper printed an article praising the natural beauty of Brown County. An artist named Adolph Shulz read the article and came down to see it for himself. He was entranced, sent word out to his fellow artists, and started the art colony. Painters came from all over to capture Brown County on canvas.

Another Brown County inspiration is craftwork. The first settlers had to be self-reliant and talented enough to make useful items. They made it all—from cabins to cabinets, dishes to furniture, and everything in between. Today, the county is home to weavers, potters, stained glass artists, quilters, blacksmiths, and woodworkers. These are the people who are inspired to work with their hands to create beautiful useful objects.

When you wrap yourself in a handwoven shawl or drink your coffee out of a hand thrown mug, you can sense the communion of material, maker, and yourself. It is a strange phenomenon, but I have heard folks say that they were just poking around in some shop and a piece of pottery called out to them. I think craftwork is like music. A musician works and hones a song, polishes the delivery, then turns it over to the person who should hear it.

Music is a sure Brown County inspiration. To paraphrase a famous lyric, “These hills are alive with the sound of music.”

A fiddle player was no doubt among the first half dozen or so settlers here. Back in the early part of the last century there was a couple of musicians from Brown County by the names of Doc and Diner (that would be dialect for Dinah) Biesel who got semi-famous. They played “Old Time” music in the old-time way.

The Brown County Jamboree was established in the 1940s. It showcased local talent as well as national touring acts. In 1952 a Kentucky mandolin picker with a high tenor voice bought the Jamboree. His name was Bill Monroe and he set the Jamboree on a new course resulting in the longest running Bluegrass festival in in the country.

The beauty of Brown County inspired Hoagy Carmichael to compose “Brown County in Autumn.”

Back in the 1960s, the local Stringbean String Band was burnin’ up the woods with their music.

We once had a venue called The Little Nashville Opry that hosted lots of famous country music stars.

Now we have the new Brown County Music Center. This center is still in its infancy, but from the shows I’ve seen, it is one of the best venues for music that you can imagine.

The Brown County Playhouse is also a wonderful smaller venue that goes back 70 years.

While I’m on the subject of music, about half the residents of the county are pickers of one kind or another, and the other half wishes they were.

So, that’s my take on Brown County and why we love it. It speaks to our individual souls.

The question remains. “What to do we do until we can get back to being inspired?” Well, I think maybe we could put our memories and dreams on paper or canvas. We could learn a musical instrument—maybe take up the banjo. I’m workin’ on a new hiking staff. We can all put in time doing the things Brown County has inspired us to do.

When it’s safe to venture out again, Brown County will still be here to inspire us.