"I watched as a man picked up a copy in the line today... He laid it up on the rack, leafing through, and as he leafed, he slowed... I wondered if he was deciding, "Would he, wouldn't he?" He looked again at the cover... Decisions... Then, he reached down and took another and, with his two copies, retired to his nice car with PA plates at the pump and drove away..."

Of course, we love hearing from our readers. But, with our regular columnists we also have a little network of folks who observe for us, who observe responses for Two-Lane Livin’ in their area. The story above was sent by Brad Moyers, of "Write On The Radio," telling of his experience at a local gas station in his home town of Burnsville.

During the week it takes us to distribute to our fourteen counties, we get to see and hear people respond to Two-Lane Livin’ ourselves. Most often, the response comes by direct comment or compliment but, as Brad discovered, sometimes the reward comes in a silent moment, witnessed only by a twist of fate that puts us in the right place at the right time.

I happened to be at the DMV office a few months ago, when I looked over to see the teller at the next window pick up her copy of Two-Lane Livin’ to read while she waited for the next customer to arrive. I had to smile, and nudge the friend who was with me, nodding in the teller’s direction. Outside, I asked my friend, "Did you see that?"

I would say my experience and Brad’s experience were both moments so brief, they might have been missed. I’m so glad someone was there in those few seconds to see how folks respond to Two-Lane Livin’.

* * * *

So much can happen in a moment -- in a second, in ten seconds, in ninety seconds. That’s how long the WCHS television feature "Traveling West Virginia" lasts -- ninety seconds.

Frank and I don’t watch television. So, to be honest, six weeks ago, we had no idea the show existed, no idea how many people watched it, and no idea what the show could accomplish -- in ninety seconds.

WCHS photojournalist Brad Rice spent most of the day with us to learn our story on Print Day, a day when we are usually a bit frantic, grumpy, and covered in newsprint ink. It is his experience and skill that made it possible to fit our story into a brief moment -- a moment of impact.

I was able to see the segment on the Internet, about five minutes before it first aired on television. The house was cozy and quiet, and then, the phone began to ring. Friends, family, all tried to get through. Strangers called, and my computer started chirping, "You have mail!"

Within 24 hours of the first airing, we had 350 visitors to our web site -- over sixty in the first hour. We began the next day as a normal day, but then began hearing, "Hey, I saw you on tv!" That ninety seconds never stretched so far before.

Since we realized the popularity of "Traveling West Virginia," we thought it only fitting that we celebrate the show’s tenth year in this issue of Two-Lane Livin’. Visit "West Virginia Travelers" on page 8 to learn more about the background of the show, and the man behind the camera.

After meeting with Brad, seeing what wonders he could do with a brief video moment, and then feeling the response to being on his show, Frank and I join hundreds of others in the state who are already fans of the show, and we don’t need cable, a dish, or an antennae. We’ll watch it on the web.

The piece may lead some to believe we are alone in our efforts, Frank and I. But in reality, we have a network of supporters and contributors that includes readers, columnists, family, friends, distributors and advertisers. Frank and I have a network that includes more than 15,000 readers and friends. We just never see too many of them in person.

We appreciate the support of our readers and friends, and of the advertisers and clients who make all this possible. And now, because of that ninety-second moment, the demand for copies of our magazine has just jumped off the charts. Wow. We need more copies.

I hate this time of year. Every year, without fail it seems, sometime in February I lose my groove. I’ve got it all together, and then I don’t. When or how I missed that beat that kept the system smoothly running, I rarely know. I could blame it on anything, but each year never the less, during February I get tripped up and and no matter how much effort I put into getting the routine rolling again, it will take most of March to get really get it all back together.

I can feel the moment it clicks back into place. It comes about a week after daylight savings ends. I can’t tell when I lost it, but I can typically mark the moment I get my groove back. Each year, with the arrival of spring, I’m off and smooth-groovin’ again.

Many times, the experience was the same. I’m outside, mindlessly tasking on some project when the first warm breeze of the season whispers across my face. It carries the rich, sweet scent of growth -- the smell of dirt and earthworms, growth and the color green. It is the scent of a new season that causes me to pause and take note. I stop my work, and lift my head to draw the scent in -- taking a longer, deeper breath than I have taken all winter.

I close my eyes to relish the freshness in my lungs, through my mind, and as I do, I feel warmth across my cheeks as the sun shines warm and promising upon me.

The moment I exhale, I know I have flushed a winter’s worth of tension. I feel twenty pounds lighter, a little light-headed, and my rhythm has returned to me.

What could pass as an unnoticeable moment is the moment I wait for each spring. In fact, for years, the moment did pass unrecognized. But after multiple times, I began to mark the moment. Now, instead of struggling towards it, or wallowing around in the March mud, I just wait for it to come. Then, in that one breath, I know all will be well.