Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine living in Kentucky, but when Hurricane Katrina stole everything we owned in Bay Saint Louis, Mississippi, we had to go somewhere. Our daughter and son-in-law, both soldiers, were stationed at Fort Campbell, and it seemed as good a place as any to live.  It has been almost five years since I moved to Hopkinsville, and out of all the places I’ve ever lived–and that includes San Diego, Washington, D.C., North Palm Beach in south Florida, and Gulf Breeze in Florida’s panhandle–this place ranks high on my list of Favorite Places. People who are originally from here can’t get over the fact that I like it as much as I do, and frankly, sometimes neither can I. But obviously I’m not the only one, because Hopkinsville was recently named Kentucky’s fastest growing city.

There are so many reasons I like this place. For one thing, there are lots and lots of sidewalks, something that is all but fading from the American landscape. Every morning, a friend and I walk a little more than four miles, all of which, except for our jaunt through Riverside Cemetery, are on sidewalks. We have a regular route, and morning after morning, we see familiar faces who greet us with waves and greetings like, ” Looking good, Ladies!” or “Remember to breathe!” Motorists are kind and smile at us when giving us the right of way, and both the exercise and the human contact are a fabulous start to my day.

I love that traffic here is practically non-existent. Once, when I complained that a meeting which required my attendance was “way over on the other side of town,” my daughter rolled her eyes and commented, “Mom, it’ll take all of ten minutes to get there.” And it was true. Most of the time when I go to work, the five stop lights I pass through are green, and on the few occasions they aren’t, my wait is less than a minute and no more than two. The most heavily traveled road is known as simply, “The Boulevard,” which I find quaint. It’s common for an Amish horse and buggy to further slow what little traffic there is, and even then, people are usually courteous and not terribly put out. I guess people here just aren’t in a hurry, and I find that refreshing.

There are many farms all around, and I love that they are a short bike-ride away. Hopkinsville has two farmers markets and many side-of-the-road fruit and vegetable stands, so not only do we have access to homegrown goodness, but it’s easy to get to know the farmers themselves. I’ve gotten so spoiled eating just-picked produce, and I’ve never felt healthier. I’m already dreading that summer is ending soon; I’ve actually been thinking about learning to can, which, for this big-city girl, is about as outrageous a thought as I’ve ever had.

Seldom do I find the need to venture away from here to shop. While some may argue that Hopkinsville doesn’t have much in the way of shopping, I always manage to find most everything I need. Not that I’m not much of a shopper to begin with. I think of going to Clarksville the way I think of going to Wal-Mart: an act of God needs to get me there, and even then, there has to be more than just one thing on the list. If I ever felt the need for a big city fix, Nashville, St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Memphis are all within four hours away. Fortunately, I haven’t needed a big city fix in a long, long time.

I love that it has been easy to get involved in the community; any number of organizations always need, and are always grateful to have, volunteers. By working on a variety of projects, I’ve met a lot of people from all walks of life, which in turn has resulted in opportunities for me to learn and grow and contribute. Somehow, I am sure the connections I’ve made through volunteerism played a pivotal role in my employment at the community college and for a local magazine, neither of which I really consider “jobs,” because I enjoy them way too much.

By writing this, I’ve discovered that I have found satisfaction in being content with not just where I am, but who I’ve become. Indeed, life is more than just a destination; and although the journey may have unforeseen detours and pit stops, it is worth savoring because unexpected blessings usually unfold. It isn’t so much that Hopkinsville, Kentucky is the end-all place, because obviously it isn’t right for everyone. But it suits me just fine; I have bloomed where I was planted.