Blue Ridge - a 2 Day Diary

As on Culebra, the same scene is rarely, if ever, the same. Maybe it is the go-slow mode, maybe it is something else, but the vistas I love never fail to entertain me. These days (or maybe any day) that is no small thing. While it's only taken 200 years for us to change our planet in ways that sometimes seem to have no way back home, some things are still the same and if only for that, well worth celebrating.

This one came out in the rain, bedraggled and beautiful. Maybe in the midst of water water everywhere, a bit of sweet was a change of pace. Or maybe it was the attraction to red when it seemed all else in the world was a swirling mass of greys.

Drinks are on me!

The last two days have been rainy and cloudy (and sunny too, for brief bouts of time). Silence hangs as heavily as dampening fog, with occasional birdsong and water dripping off of pine needles and leaves marking notes in what feels like timelessness. 

Barely a cloud in the sky.
Okay, a cloud in the sky.

20 minutes later

30 minutes later

An hour later

There are a lot of myths about this sight -
the rising souls of the dead?
Or, fog and heat streams making for mesmerizing visions?

Thankfully, that is NOT snow!

A different kind of whiteout

Moments after this, it rained again, complete with lightning and a bit of far off thunder. The temperature went from the low 70's to the 80's, back and forth until the mid-60's took over the night. I pulled out some more blankets and again wondered why I don't keep a drawer full of wooly socks up here. But I forget. And the very idea of wooly socks at home makes me sweat. Maybe I'll remember one day, or maybe I'll just have to keep making plans to get home before my feet freeze, at least until I turn on a heater. 

Have a twirling Tuesday. Do something tiptappingly.