Mountain People & Contra

   People of the mountains are among some of my favorite to watch, especially when they are dancing. Swirling on the dance floor is a strange combination of somber attitudes and energetic movements.

  Each have an unspoken unity of pride in the mountains, which belong to no man, yet claimed by all.

  Mountain women seem stern and firm, but when they swivel between the seemingly unorganized patterns of people, to the listening eye, there can be spotted a hidden joy revealed in the corners of her eyes. The prettiest thing to see is the long handmade skirts bearing earthy designs that tickle to life at the edge of a twirl.
  Time-worn, wrinkly fingers, that look fragile and frail yet feel strong and rough, grasp five tender fingers to allemande left. The kind of fingers that have seen not yet half of the years the prior had.
  On stage, the fiddle, the dulcimer, and banjo play a tone that these mountain folk have accepted as their own second heart beat. The mumble of the caller causing occasional rhythmic interruptions to the sounds of the mountain people stomping in long lines. A holler goes up as these people march back and forth. It sings of freedom, joy, and, pride.
  Everyone finishes the song with one last spinning of their partners only to applaud the musicians  for the gift of one last dance before the long, hard day of work begins again.

  It is clear to me these mountain people love their folk.