Undisturbed Beauty

Sitting on a large rock at water’s edge I relaxed to the sound of the Little Pigeon River, tumbling down a small cascade forty yards in front of me and then dispersing into deep pockets. Aqua green and darker shades intermingled, distinguished by the water pocket’s depth and proximity to the rapids. After a six mile hike I had settled down to relax among the roar of water that is both pleasant to the senses and loud enough to drown out footsteps and sometimes voices. I tuned in to the river.

The beauty is always here, mostly undisturbed, waiting to be discovered. During nighttime hours when the day hike guests are gone it still flows, serenading a different set of admirers among the wildlife. I have to wonder if the loud screams of night crawlers and other creatures of the night manage to be heard among such an all-encompassing sound that fills in all the quiet places and mental gaps of nature’s other musicians, along with soothing life’s weights.

The river is content if no one ever notices because she is living by design. No regrets, and she’s okay with going it alone if need be.

River rocks are smooth from a lifetime of being sculpted, one cascade of flowing water at a time, into their current form. You know it’s a river rock. Take them out of the water and with a quick glance, or perhaps a touch, you can tell because the look takes time and dedication to create. Colors and shapes may differ, but they’re all beautiful and a crafted work of art. Like people. Gentle touches and inspiration, added day in and day out, shows on a person after a while.

Reflections on the water’s surface float overhead and paint an image below on those resting underneath the surface, catching their breath. Like a gentle hand covering and protecting. It’s a gentle reminder of where you came from, the beauty it extends, and how we fit into a master plan. The scene would be missing a piece of the puzzle without any one of us. 

Short Visit

A small, blue butterfly landed on my right arm, sitting on my shirt sleeve. I expected it to take flight, but I went into still mode and watched it move about, turning in random patterns, six inches from my face. It explored for a good five minutes, feeling its way along and then stepping down onto my arm.

I have photographed many butterflies, but I have never captured quite the detail I saw from such a close distance. Our eyes are marvelous devices, and they can see a full range of bright areas and dark shadows. The butterfly turned about, exposing its wings the sun’s side lighting, which brought out texture.  Light blue and gray wings, bathed with side lit sunshine, reminded me of an old style pressed tin roof, with narrow ridges carved out and filled in with the darkness of shadows. Spontaneous splotches of black paint dotted the wings, along with pressed, round stamps along wing’s edges, just below soft strands of silky white hair than shown out in the midday sun on a gorgeous 74 degree day.

After a time I slowly pulled a point and shoot camera out of my left shirt pocket, hoping to capture my new friend on my arm. Holding the camera and ready to take the image, I watched the butterfly lift off and then settle on my left hand, inches from the camera. I think it knew.

Sometimes it’s good to soak it all into memory, where good thoughts can help carry you through less peaceful times.

I don’t often take time from my busy schedule to visit with a butterfly. It won’t be around long; we need to learn lessons from it while we can. Same with people.

I never got an image of the butterfly. But after I sat on the rock overlooking Little Pigeon River in the Great Smoky Mountains for an hour, watching the beauty of nature with a soundtrack of rushing water, I realized this was why I came out today. Never thought about stresses in my life, and I actually forgot about everything other than what I was immersed in, at least for a time.

3/15/2013 Porters Creek Trail Hike

The Greenbrier section of the Great Smokey Mountains is peaceful and relaxing, with some of the best views of the rivers in the park. Drive through to the Ramsey Cascades trail head and you'll cross over several bridges, with plenty of ops to pull over and enjoy the relaxing sounds of the water cascading over rocks.

I arrived at 9:30 am to hike the Porters Creek Trail. The first mile is on the old road that takes you through old settlements. You'll see a number or rock walls to your right, and if you venture off the trail you can see the remnants up close. Rock steps lead up to a small cemetery that's still kept up by family members, and nearby you'll find a few remnants of a Model T Ford.

At the one mile lark the trail splits. At this point take a 200 yard detour and view the old John Messer Barn, and further back you'll find the house built by the Smoky Mountain Hiking Club in the 1930's. It was used until the early 80's. Afterwards, continue on Porter's Creek Trail.

At the 1.6 mile mark you'll cross a footbridge that was a bit scary on the day I hiked across. The water was flowing good from all the snow melting on LeConte. After you reach the other side, and a very short hike from there, you'll notice the landscape changes, at least in mid March. The grasses and banks are more of a rich green, like carpet, and locals tell me I was 2 or 3 weeks early. Wildflowers cover this area, and the banks look like they're covered with a layer of snow. This is a popular area in early April.

At 2.0 miles you'll see a waterfall on the left. This is a good place to go back if you wish, or you can continue on to campsite 31, which ends at the 3.7 mile mark. When I arrived there three guys were hanging out. They had camped the night before. One pointed ahead to the steep mountain, which is Charlie's Bunion, and said a couple of guys asked them if they wanted to scale it, and they declined. This is actually a non-maintained trail that you can read about online; sounds pretty tough.

A nice day hike, not too steep. You won't see the ridges and vistas on this one, but it's a beautiful hike with a nice, relaxing flow of water to accompany your entire trek. 7.4 miles total, if you go all the way to campsite 31.