we're here now

 in the past few weeks as I venture into the community close to home 

I notice how much of it is new.

not the places,

the geography is much the same, 

appalachia is a slow place, 

but the people. 

all these groups I have joined 

all composed by people 

not here before pandemic. 

I find it a little amazing in a way 

over thirty souls who had never seen or spent time in our area, aside from vacations, 

rolling in from: 

new hampshire 

connecticut 

florida 

new york 

vermont 

and any handful of states and cities that typically we never saw a transplant from previously.

"Tennessee's animal laws are awful! I'm sorry but they are" 

"Don't look at me when you say that! We're from Florida"

I raise my hand. 

"I was born and raised here."

"Why are your laws so bad?"

It takes me a moment to determine what 'bad' means

and I realize that in relation to city laws

we had laws governing the keeping of animals as it pertained to the small self-sustaining plots of land 

and animals 

as people once were too,

workers.

in my mind I see my own grandfather's dog running fields

keeping sheep in

moles, groundhogs, and coyotes at bay. 

no one would ever have instituted a 'leash law' 

or a law about proper housing

the dog got in the barn with the straw and other animals when needed

no one kept a field animal without proper water

it ate table scraps before my nana composted.

I start to speak and someone talks over me 

"We're here now!" 

as if in triumph

her mere presence bettering appalachia because

she is standing here

and was from 

somewhere else.

no desire to know history

or understand time

or her neighbors.

lacking any respect for place.