Ticks And City Folks Don’t Mix, Especially In Upstate New York
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Hill Country Living
By Coulter Fussell
I don’t have a lot to report from Water Valley this week as I’ve not been in Mississippi at all since mid-June. I’ve been holed up at an artist residency right outside Saratoga Springs, a town in upstate New York. This residency is a place one may come to get some creative work done in rural isolation while communing with other artsy-types. I don’t lack for rural isolation at all back home in Water Valley! Our town already has half of the requirements for a typical artist residency: nothing else to do.
The semi-rural setting here scares the city folks who are in residence, though. They have a hard time sleeping because it’s “too quiet.” They carefully listen to every little creak outside of their rooms at night, as if each little shuffle in the bushes is of great consequence in terms of the continuation of their lives.
They report these noises, through weary and unrested eyes, each morning at breakfast. I try to assure them that it’s probably just a raccoon or maybe even, at worst, a lost bat. Both of those suggestions seem to have the opposite effect that I intend. I eventually decided to quit trying to reassure them that literally zero woodland creatures care what they’re doing in their room at night. Now, I just wish them the best in their efforts to survive.
The city people are also unusually obsessed with ticks. Yes, ticks are annoying but should their existence on Earth determine whether or not one walks across a low-cut lawn? I feel not. To not walk across the lawn is just giving a tick what it wants – undisturbed access to you while you stand under a tree deciding whether or not to walk across the lawn.
I’m not entirely sure where I am in terms of pointing out Saratoga Springs on an unmarked map but I do know that the people in this town love horse racing as much as we love watermelons. While both towns have a similar degree of fervor for their chosen communal theme, I can confidently ascertain that there seems to be a bit more money in horse racing than in watermelons. But, watermelons smell better so I determine Water Valley the winner in regard to the better passion.
I arrived in upstate New York during an unprecedented heatwave which seems entirely unfair, coming from Mississippi and all. A few days before I left for this place, I packed my Ole Miss sweatshirt with such hope…only to arrive and have my sweatshirt dream deferred. This is the closest I’ve ever been to Canada and it feels like Memphis outside. Fortunately, I’m acclimated and the high temps don’t affect me in the slightest despite the disappointment at not being able to comfortably represent Ole Miss in a foreign land. I can’t say as much for the other residents in terms of the heatwave. You can imagine the dramatics. They would cease to live if they ever attended Watermelon Carnival. Game over.
I look forward to returning to Water Valley in a few days to get back to real life and to check on my beloved house plants that were left in the care of my husband and two sons, God bless them (my plants, I mean.)
