One day Kevin and I were filling sacks with hog feed from the mill in the back, and I remember him talking about when he was a young man working there; about lines of trucks going clear out of sight waiting to get their turn at milling their corn. Every truck he said, had a different variety of corn. There are so many ways that Bryson's was a part of the community fabric of the Sylva area, and it can't be replaced.
I think my heart will re-break a little every time I pass by on that huge and profoundly expensive road. In those moments I will treasure my memories of my first tomato biscuit, bull cod tomato salsa, Randy Hooper stories, incredible hornets nests, Armando's gardening advice, and Kevin throwing treats under the shelves so my tiny dog Bo would shimmy under and clean out the dust bunnies. Oh and Tiny Tom, the big sweet orange tabby that greeted customers and slept comfortably on sacks of feed. So here's to the Feed n' Seeds, and the ways they have fed our souls. I hope that the seeds they've helped us sow will thrive and inspire us to pull up a chair, grab a cup of coffee, slow down and sit a spell with friends.