Just around the curvy country roads of Tennessee and up the
path only experienced bikers, know is a hidden town called Leiper’s Fork. If you weren’t
looking for it, this wisp of a town would pass right by you. It has one main
street, and is surrounded by white picket fences and quaint little homes where
the scent of apple pie drifts out of the cracked windows. It’s a place where
people circle around town bonfires and gossip about the latest great find at
the rare bookstore next door.
Everything seems settled in Leiper’s Fork. No one is in a
hurry to beat rush hour traffic or catch the Saturday evening flick. Each
other’s company is enough for them, and the local BBQ restaurant’s fruit tea is
just the right caveat for conversation.
This past Saturday a great friend and I sought out to explore the
town, because rumors of a grand estate sale tickled our ears. We were met with
cars jammed along the side streets, pumpkins of all sizes, repurposed furniture
and orange leaves everywhere. Hay
bales also made numerous appearances throughout the side streets.
We stopped for a late lunch at a country kitchen and
meandered the town looking for an estate sale gem. We passed old homes full of
character and classic trucks you only see in movies. We walked out of there
with arms full of shiny pumpkins and a couple of handcrafted bar stools. Estate
sale gem: check.
The laid back afternoon turned into a lazy evening on the
couch, typing this post while listening to the crickets sing. It was a great
day to intentionally be a part of fall, and great night to reminisce about
it.
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