When I say I love East Tennessee, I mean it. I love possums waddling across the road and chickens scratching in the ditch. I love roadside produce stands, how when in doubt we fry it, the sunrises and sunsets, the drone of the katydids in July evenings, the Friday night high school football pride that transitions to a love for the Big Orange, how we bleed orange from birth– if you’re raised right. I love the mountains on display at every turn, the proud mindset of all us mountain people who continue to find a way to get by. I love the lightning bugs, bringing just a little magic to twilight. I love the Junebugs too. I love a lazy Sunday anchored in a holler on the lake, and a fiddle playing breaking out at a family reunion at Metcalf Bottoms. I love the festivals celebrating every season and holiday. I love Jack in the Pulpit and the history of our hills and valleys. I love the books that pour out of people after they visit just once. I love the poetry on the tongues of every native. It’s a cadence, it’s a way of life, our storytelling is communication of our love of the land. I even love the funerals, and the hellfire and brimstone preaching. I love bats on the wing and swallows diving for skeeters. I love that you always know somebody no matter where you go. I love Girl…