The Outer Banks


IMG_3438I am good at being alone. Equally so in a crowded room as an open field at dusk. I am good at silence because it is never really silent. Not when you open yourself to the sounds of the vibrating bass the wind thrusts and pounds against your ears or the rustling and pushing of the grass like a crowd moving together and against each other. And I am good at noise. The screeching, clanking, swishing, humming, drumming of modern reality. It is music.

I am comfortable with my own thoughts. I chuckle audibly at jokes in my head, to the scathing, judgmental stares of others. Yet, I can easily navigate a gathering of diverse conversationalists. Admittedly, empathy makes the crowd easier than the singular mind because I am less forgiving of myself. Continue reading “The Outer Banks”

The Blue Ridge Mountains

This is a sequel to theBlack Bear (1) post Shenandoah National Park. I felt the need to broaden my scope of the area considering that the Blue Ridge Mountains are practically out our back-door.

We frequently take day-drives over the mountains on weekends, and every once in a while we stop and spend the night. Fall is the most beautiful time to go. It is still warm enough to sport a light jacket, the leaves are incredible orange hues, and the black bears are easier to spot as the climb up and down the Shenandoah trees.

Continue reading “The Blue Ridge Mountains”

Shenandoah National Park

DSCN3996 Do not go to Shenandoah National Park in March. We learned this a few weeks ago when the feeling of spring had crept into the woods behind our apartment in Virginia and inspired us to seek the tops of the nearest mountains.

Spring, however, had not sprung in Shenandoah. Miniature ice waterfalls frozen in free fall from the cliffs on the roadside and loomed downward menacingly from the tops of the tunnel arches. The trails were snow-lined and mud filled. Simple walking proved difficult by the frozen surface atop the mushy ground. Slip, slide, squish. It may have been fun had my husband not been carrying our six-month-old baby and I with my flat-bottomed sketchers made for sidewalks. Continue reading “Shenandoah National Park”