The Lost Colony
Growing up, it was always the ghost stories, the mysteries, the tales of fantastical times and other worlds that I loved the most. They sparked my imagination. They opened my eyes to the wonders around me.
Sometime in the 20th century, the mysteries of the world-before seemed to disappear. There’s no doubt a historical explanation for it all: the psyche of the time, the rise of science, the flood of technology into daily life. But in our quest to learn the world’s inner workings, in our search to demystify, new mysteries have arisen. Perhaps it is our current limited understanding, but I suspect something more: I think the world knows we need mysteries.
For me, the adventure of life is in the unknown, in the moment, in the surroundings that whisper secrets to us.
The lost colony of Roanoke is one such secret. It was one of the first English settlements in the New World, and it was in Roanoke that Virginia Dare, the first newborn of English descent, was born. Three short years later, the colonists had disappeared, leaving their homes abandoned. Where had the inhabitants disappeared to? Why was there no indication or writings about what had taken place?
Over the past months, I have felt as if I were one of those colonists — disappearing without word or writings. And it is even stranger that I find myself now in a city with the same name, nestled at the foot of the Appalachian mountains. This is not the lost colony, but I wonder if I am still a bit lost.
But I’m in the process of finding. I have already discovered so much this summer: my voice, my passion, my strength… But it was my heart that called me here, and I feel as the first settlers of the lost colony might have, stepping into a vast new landscape filled with unknowns. And I have never known such beauty.