Greg Montgomery
UNOAKED
A CAROLINA
SUMMER by MIMI MONTGOMERY
W
“WE REALLY ARE SPOILED,” ONE OF MY NORTH CAROLINA FRIENDS SAYS. “THE ancient curves of the Blue Ridge to the west, the blue-green rise and fall of the Atlantic to the east. How could you go wrong?” Summer in North Carolina is, without question, wonderful. Sure, fall is lovely, full of football games, Indian summer days, and trips to the farmers market. Winter is a breeze compared to what our friends up North have to deal with. And spring, with its fragile fullness and budding green, is a hint at the best to come. Because summer beats them all. Whenever I tell out-of-staters I’m from North Carolina, they’re always excited to tell me about the time their grandmother rented a beach house in the Outer Banks, or they went to Asheville over Labor Day. We really are spoiled. The ancient curves of the Blue Ridge to the west, the blue-green rise
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and fall of the Atlantic to the east. How could you go wrong? Of course, there are some heretics that maintain the beaches of that other Carolina are better. On this assertion, I politely decline to comment. I will say, however, that I spent far too many hours of my college career watching people eat fried turkey legs and dance in nightclub cages on the cheery shores of Myrtle Beach. In the words of Forrest Gump: “That’s all I have to say about that.” Living in Raleigh, North Carolina, our state’s beaches become a second living room during the summer. On Friday afternoons, you can dip out of work a bit early and be on the beach in time
