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| Fall in the Valley |
Of all the places I've ever lived, I miss the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina the most. There's something both mysterious and majestic about those old mountains... something that is palpable when you sit on the porch and look out across the valleys. Those mountains are old... older than we can imagine. They were some of the first formed on this continent. In fact, they were old by the time this even became its own continent. And there's something about that antiquity that makes them seem like they are whispering soft words of wisdom to you when you look across their valleys and streams, hills and curves, blanketed in trees so thick that the true shape of the mountain is only hinted at. They hold secrets man will never come to know.
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| Fog Covers the Valleys |
In the cool of the evenings, you can sit there and hear the slow, deep bong of the big pipe windchimes that swing from porch and tree branch. The wild cry of the "pain'ers" (panthers, or mountain lions) can often be heard deep within the trees, off on a nearby hill... owls hoot their quick greetings, while the moon rises, scudding behind clouds that were born among the hills themselves.
In the Spring, the mountains light up with more colors of green than I ever thought possible, as each tree brings new leaves on its multitude of branches. Fields of flowers begin to appear around every bend in the crooked roads that snake through the valleys. Mornings often bring blankets of fog settled between the mountains, as if Nature itself has tucked them in for the night. In the Summer, those same trees catch the mountain breezes as they wind their way through valley and over hills and bring them down to the ground where us flightless humans dwell.
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| Hoarfrost on Grandfather Mtn. |
The Fall brings a show like no other, with the brilliant colors of greens and golds and hues of browns, drawing visitors from miles around to slowly wind their way down crooked roads and parkways to catch a glance at Nature's finest show. Artists and photographers seek the best view, to capture its beauty on canvas or in picture, only to find that there is no "best view" because it's all breathtaking.
As Fall wanes and Winter creeps in, hoarfrost begins to cover tree and field with it's ghostly blanket of frosty sparkle as the very clouds freeze as they sweep over the hilltops. Winter's winds blow, and snows cover ground, tree, and home with a sparkling blanket of crystal white. Animals leave footprints throughout as they scurry about seeking shelter and food. Then, before you know it, Spring comes again. Melting ice and snow fills creeks and rivers to the brim with the coldest clean water you've ever seen or tasted, first dripping from rocks, then gathering into mighty torrents as it rushes down rivers, to points beyond.
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| Spring's Beauty |
Every season is alive in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and carry with them a rhythm that's been beating for more years than mankind itself has been around. We are but travelers, passing through, as the mountains move to the beat of a much slower drum. They share their beauty with us but for awhile, then we're gone, but the mountains remain.
There's something special about the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina... something that has to be experienced rather than read about, or seen in pictures. Words cannot do them justice. You'll just have to "feel" them for yourselves.
"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn."
~ John Muir ~
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| Fall's Brilliant Show |
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