Middleburg Summer: Why We Live Here

One of the questions I get asked most by buyers looking to move to Hunt Country is, "What do people actually do here in the summer?"

My answer is always the same.

Everything.

Or absolutely nothing.

That's the beauty of this place.

Yes, there's polo. Lots of polo. Wineries. Farmers markets. Live music. Trail rides. Swimming holes. Food trucks. Fireworks. Outdoor dinners that somehow last until the stars come out. Children running barefoot through sprinklers while parents insist they're "just staying for one drink."

And, of course...did I mention polo?

But the moments I love most aren't the ones printed on an events calendar. They're the wonderfully ordinary moments that remind me why I sell real estate here in the first place.

The Great Turtle Rescue

The other day I spotted a woman in yoga clothes absolutely sprinting down Route 50.

Naturally, my first thought was that someone with a chainsaw was chasing her.

Instead, she was risking life and limb to rescue a box turtle attempting its annual game of Frogger.

Without hesitation she scooped him up and carried him across the road—in the direction he was already heading, because that's apparently turtle etiquette.

It was one of those perfectly Middleburg moments.

Around here, people stop traffic for turtles.

(And yes, if it's a snapping turtle, maybe let someone with thicker gloves handle that assignment.)

Fire Is More Fun

Every summer the internet rediscovers the magical recipe of vinegar, Epsom salt and dish soap as the environmentally friendly cure for weeds.

I have a better idea.

Fire.

There are several propane weed torches on the market—I happen to love my Red Dragon—and nothing is more satisfying than strolling down a gravel driveway or around a riding ring dramatically incinerating every weed in sight.

I may or may not beat my chest afterward while yelling, "I HAVE MADE FIRE!" like Tom Hanks in Cast Away.

Neighbors probably have questions.

I have fewer weeds.

Tick Season Is Personal

Living in Virginia means accepting a few realities.

Humidity.

Horseflies.

And the fact that nearly everyone knows someone who's battled Lyme disease.

If the internet is to be believed, there are now conspiracy theories about how Lyme started. Frankly, I don't have enough energy left after daily tick checks to solve that mystery.

Around here we're simply trying not to become walking connect-the-dot puzzles covered in bull's-eyes while collecting enough doxycycline bottles to decorate the town Christmas tree.

Seriously though—check yourself, check your kids, check your dogs and don't ignore a bite.

Follow Your Nose

One of my favorite summer activities is disappearing into the woods on horseback or hiking shaded trails with the dogs before the heat settles in.

But here's a little local knowledge.

If you're walking through the woods and suddenly smell fresh-cut cucumbers...

Stop.

Look around.

That smell can be associated with a nearby copperhead.

Don't panic. Just give it plenty of space.

Trust me on this one.

The Hunt Country Driving Test

Then there are our roads.

After months of rain, they're less "Virginia Scenic Byway" and more obstacle course.

Locals instinctively know every pothole, washboard, soft shoulder and surprise dip between Middleburg and Upperville. We drift around them with the confidence of Formula One drivers who happen to own Labradors.

Visitors?

Not so much.

I would pay actual money to watch the expressions of someone in a freshly detailed luxury SUV discover Foxcroft Road after a thunderstorm.

Surely someone in the Middleburg Uncensored group has a trail camera pointed in the right direction.

This Is Home

People often ask me what makes Hunt Country different from everywhere else.

It's not just the beautiful farms.

Or the stone walls.

Or the horses grazing behind black fences.

It's the people who stop to save turtles.

The neighbors who pull strangers out of ditches.

The impromptu dinners that turn into lifelong friendships.

The children who grow up knowing creeks are for catching minnows and summer evenings are best spent outside until the lightning bugs come out.

That's what buyers fall in love with.

The houses simply come with it.

So wherever your summer takes you, I hope you find time to slow down, rescue a turtle, burn a few weeds, watch a polo match, and remember why so many of us are lucky enough to call this extraordinary corner of Virginia home.

See you around town.