Blue Ridge

I must go up to the hills again, the blue hills and the sky.  

And so we did.  

Off to Brevard and slightly cooler temperatures, breathable air,  waterfalls and vistas awaiting.

There's something in me which craves a big view.  I want to see the sky stretched out.  I  want to see the lie of the land.  I need to experience that humility of being small in a vastness of geography.  

And I must be a participant, not just an observer.  I need to walk, cover some distance, be there long enough to see the changes in the sky, have time to notice the small things at my feet.  No heroics here.  I'm not one of those who has to scale the highest mountain or build up a sweat.  I'm not made of such stern stuff.  A few hours of walking, a picnic with a view,  the joy of nature's surprises ....  

Art Loeb trail Tennent Mountain

When we hiked here last year the wild berries were abundant.  The slopes were freckled with  blueberry pickers, bent over, foraging like troops of baboons.  We gathered handfuls -- blueberries and blackberries -- way beyond saturation, the flavors sweet in our mouths, stains on our fingers and lips.   

This year there were no pickers, no fruit.  Small hard clusters which never ripened.  Barren bushes.  Weather they said.  Some talked of hail early in the year, others of drought.  We heard of the sad hunger of bears and their desperation for food.  We learned that a part of the Mountains to Sea trail had been closed due to bears.  Their crazed hunger.

Blue Yonder

 It's the mountains that call to us.  And the rivers -- their fresh joyous tumble, 

their rush and their songs, their burbles and their falls. 

Choosing our picnic rock

boulder hopping

This area is known as the "Land of Waterfalls".  

And we have hiked to many over the years.

This visit we took a long hike through DuPont State Forest and got caught in a tremendous thunderstorm which stalled, thunder and lightning directly overhead for almost 90 minutes, 

the torrential rain rushing over our ankles in a red rivulet along the narrow steep forest paths.  

We came to Bridal Veils Falls and clambered up the slick granite.  The sun came out.

You can walk (stooped) behind these falls.

The meadows are full of Queen Anne's Lace.  Butterflies.  Busy bees.

And in the forests all manner of wonders hidden and sheltered

And then you reach a peak, look up and out and, like an ocean of land, 
there are the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Folding and rising. 
Gathered peaks, waves of blue.

 

Mists like sea foam

We stayed, for the second year running, at The Red House Inn in Brevard  -- charming, knowledgeable hosts  (Tracie and Daniel),  full English breakfasts served on the veranda, (local produce, fresh flowers in vases), and a choice of excellent restaurants a short stroll away. 

 Reluctant to leave the area, we spent a few hours in Asheville 
-  a dose of charm before heading home

  Stop here

Urban forest.  Beauty and promise

 

A short break, but just what we needed. A restorative few days
with the space and the grandeur to breathe deep, to look ahead.
To take the time to notice the little things.
To be in awe.