The morning air was balmy and cool. As I walked down Mayberry the birdsong seemed silenced by the clanking of a tractor and its’ scoop consolidating the debris of hog wire, split screens and tin into a burn pile. Surveying crews and workmen hastened to make progress. Along the road, I smiled and nodded as I crossed the path of locals whom I feel have become my neighbors. Over the recent year, I’ve chosen to spend increasingly more time in this tiny town perched along Pea Ridge called Waverly.

Located only a stones-throw from the expansive farmlands and forests of the Eastern Alabama plains this town feels more like a village where everyone knows your name, and each old structure has a history which spans centuries.

It is a place where “that old house over there was the birthplace of so and so’s grandmother” long before it became known as the local legendary tomato grower’s place. When I first arrived on Pea Ridge, the old house was affectionately called “Mace’s Place” Mace does grow mighty and marvelous tomatoes. Each year his harvests enrich the chef-curated dishes at the area’s finest farm-to-table establishments, including the town’s only evening dining restaurant called The Local.

That morning something seemed different. I stepped onto the Standard Deluxe Printshop porch and the somber silence was only intermittently broken by the screech of the Wild Flour Bakery’s espresso machine and bakery staff’s kind greetings.

I took my coffee and pastry to a table near the corner window, and as each cafe guest inquired about the activity across the way it became widely known that the old place was going to be torn down. It felt more like a funeral than a typical weekday at our favorite rural bakery. As we reverently expressed our wonder for what the future of this historic terrain might look like, I continued to gaze out, tempting to suppress my desire to reach for my paintbox. I could no longer.

After a quick trip to my car, I returned to the porch with my paintbox in hand and I set to work to make some notation for history’s sake. Feverishly, I painted as the debris pile grew and tractor clanked. “That house won’t be there next week” someone pronounced over my left shoulder. I thought to myself, “yet, my painting will be.”

Tin rusts and boards crumble. Some homes are restored. Floorboards are harvested and repurposed. Places where history is made become recycled terrain. All that remains are the stories told, records and notations made. This is why I paint.

-Sarah West

This is the origin story of Bygone, a place and time that marked the beginning of my Waverly paintings series.

Immense gratitude to my Waverly neighbors who so graciously allow me to paint from their front porches, yards fields and along the Waverly roadsides and cemetery too.

Bygone is now available in print.

To acquire your archival, signed print of Bygone,

email sarahwestgallery@att.net

telephone 334-480-2008

visit The Sarah West Gallery of Fine Art, A Center for Cultural Arts in Smiths Station, Alabama