Great Smoky Mountains National Park -- A One-Day Road Trip

This week my wife and daughters are spending most of their days at the Girl Scout Camp in Lilburn, so I took advantage of my free time to go on a one-day road trip to Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Anna and I went through GSMNP on our way to Gatlinburg thirteen years ago, and I remember loving it and wanting to return. On Tuesday I did.

It's every bit as wonderful as I remembered, as is the trip up through north Georgia and North Carolina. I headed out at about 8:00 Tuesday morning, about the same time the girls left for Girl Scout Camp. I made a quick stop at the library in Flowery Branch, which is right on the way and is also the closest place I could locate the book I wanted (The Gay Talese Reader; in a strange dream I had over the weekend, it was suddenly very important that I read Talese's 1966 Esquire profile, "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold.") After that, I didn't stop for about 100 miles, which is unusual for me, but I wanted to make sure I actually made it to the Smoky Mountains instead of spending the whole day wandering around small towns along 441.

I did stop for lunch in North Carolina. First, I browsed for a few minutes in City Lights Bookstore in Sylva, NC, but didn't buy anything, then, deciding I really wanted some barbecue, I went back into Dillsboro. The lunch I had at the Dillsboro Smokehouse was great--very good barbecue and macaroni and cheese, and excellent onion rings. Tea that wasn't nearly as sweet as I'm used to in the south, but good anyway. As I ate I read the first few pages of the Talese article. After I was done, I got back in my car and didn't stop until I made it to the Oconaluftee Visitor Center at the southern entrance to the park on U.S. 441.

I spent about two hours in the park, walking, driving, taking lots of pictures. After spending about half an hour walking around at the mid-point, Newfound Gap, where you can, among other things, straddle the North Carolina/Tennessee border, get on the Appalachian Trail, and read about the Rockefeller Foundation's $5 million donation to help complete the park, I turned around and went back to the entrance and, after driving by a couple of large elk who had stopped traffic in the other direction, got on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Someday I plan to drive the whole thing; Tuesday I only drove about 15 miles of it.

After that I just meandered slowly in the general direction of home, resisting the temptation to stop in any of the shops in Cherokee, NC, but stopping at a few other places. I had dinner at a Chick-Fil-A in Demorest, GA, and spent the night at a Quality Inn in Oakwood, GA. I finished reading "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" before I came home Wednesday morning. It's really good. You should read it.

Here are a dozen pictures from my trip, starting with one of the cabins in the Mountain Farm Museum at Oconaluftee:

Detail of the floor of the cabin's porch--I find great beauty in such utilitarian details:

Detail of a wagon wheel, which was leaning against another building:

The buildings are all roofed with wooden shingles:

Detail of the gears on a piece of farm equipment:

Xx:

I have no idea what these are, but I love the texture of the wood:

Pitcher and basin inside one of the cabins:

This is the Rockefeller Memorial at Newfound Gap, halfway through the park:

Another view of Rockefeller Memorial; it looks like these two women are taking pictures of each other, but they're really not:

A panoramic view from Newfound Gap:

And another; in this one, you can see one of the park roads winding around a mountain:

Expending My Feelings on Flowers and Birds

Last night before I went to bed I was looking for something short to read before I went to sleep; I picked up THE ESSENTIAL HAIKU, edited by Robert Haas, and after flipping through it for a couple of minutes, settled on re-reading Basho's travel sketch "The Hut of the Phantom Dwelling" from 1690 (translated here by Burton Watson), in which appears this wonderful, typically Basho-lonely and Basho-thoughtful, line:

And when the sun has begun to sink behind the rim of the hills, I sit quietly in the evening waiting for the moon so I may have a shadow for company, or light a lamp and discuss right and wrong with my silhouette.

and also this:

I've worn out my body in journeys that are as aimless as the winds and clouds and expended my feelings on flowers and birds.

Sounds like a pretty good way to spend one's life, if you ask me.

The book also contain these two haiku, which I can relate to:

Deep autumn--
my neighbor,
how does he live, I wonder?

Even in Kyoto--
hearing the cuckoo's cry--
I long for Kyoto.

(I've never been to Kyoto, but I know the feeling of missing the place where you already are.)

Self Portrait, Late March 2013

Cheer Up, Sleepy Jean

This week is my wife's Spring Break. Today we picked up the girls from school, and, on our way to Stone Mountain for the afternoon, we stopped at Moe's for lunch.

As we sat there eating our burritos and tacos, "Daydream Believer" by the Monkees came on, and I suddenly found it incredibly sad that Davy Jones is no longer with us, and sadder still that I am no longer a ten year old boy just home from school and settling down in front of the television to watch the afternoon reruns of "The Monkees" on Channel 17.

Cheer up, sleepy Jean, indeed.

Happy Birthday, Mister Rogers

When I was a little boy, Mister Rogers encouraged me to be creative and curious and patient and kind. That encouragement was a wonderful gift to give a sensitive little boy. But of course, it wasn't for me alone; it was a gift he gave to many millions of people over the thirty-five year run of his PBS TV show.

Those of us who watched him every day when we were four or five or six are unquestionably better off for his influence; for his absence, the world is unquestionably poorer.

Had he lived, he would have turned eighty-five years old today. I'll be wearing a red sweater in his honor.

Reminders of the Corporate Life

More than 15 years ago, when I still worked in the corporate world, I was given this business card holder/clock as an "Attaboy!" for some work I did on a project:

Now that I've been out of the corporate world for almost a decade, and haven't worked full time in that long, too, these little reminders of my former life mean a lot more to me than I thought they would. Much to my own surprise, I find I miss my working life more than I expected.

When the girls are both in school I plan to go back to work doing something at least somewhat like what I used to do; I find myself looking forward to that. (However, I wouldn't trade my time as a stay-at-home dad for anything. It has been the most wonderful, the most sacred--and yes, the most frustrating and challenging--experience I can imagine.)

Monticello, GA

I went on a little drive today to take some pictures, and ended up in Monticello, about fifty miles from where I live. I found some wonderful colors and shapes and textures to capture.

Still Lifes: Flower and Polished Stones

Edward Weston had his shells and peppers; I've got my Dollar Store fake flowers and polished stones. Here are five images I made of them tonight:

Uncle Norbert's Clock

On our mantle sits a late nineteenth or early twentieth century Ingraham clock that belonged to my wife's late Uncle Norbert. This is a photographic study of it I made last night after everyone else had gone to bed:

Showcase Piedmont Park Field Trip

I've been taking a class at the Showcase School of Photography in Atlanta. (It's great, by the way. I recommend the Showcase School highly.) Last Saturday, exactly a week ago as I type this, we met at Piedmont Park, instead of at the classroom off of Cheshire Bridge, to do some actual photography.

On trips such as this, what I find I enjoy the most is taking pictures of the other photographers taking pictures, so here are a dozen of my "Photographers Photographing" portraits:

Most of the other participants brought their own models--family and/or friends--but I didn't think my girls were up to it (plus my wife had a bridal shower to go to that afternoon, and I thought going to Piedmont Park that morning would be a bit much for her that day). I got some good pictures of the other photographers' models, but I also got some good pictures of random people who just happened to be at the park: