It was a balmy sixty-five degrees on Sunday — not quite what you’d expect on a December weekend in the Blue Ridge Mountains. After a few hours wandering through Biltmore Village near downtown Asheville, I began to feel festive nonetheless, somehow now caring that it felt more like the beach than the mountains outside.
The village’s old brick buildings and sidewalks are a perfect setting for Christmasy window displays, playful children, and trees in transition from fall glow to winter dormancy. There’s plenty to take in, from roof and window details above, to the herringbone-patterned walks and raised beds below — each filled with colorful tapestries of leaves and branches.
I miss the days when my family would pack into the old Willys jeep and drive through the snow for hot soup and home-made cookies at our good friends’ home in the country . Although snow and Christmas will always go hand-in-hand in my memory, I think it’s important to start new traditions and appreciate what is instead of what was. The village in Biltmore is a charming blend of the past and present to me.