My post is later than usual this morning because I engaged in active birdwatching on Site 60 of Camp Margaritaville and got carried away. I can see why the birds all seem to flock to this place – it’s absolutely stunning, and gentle breezes blow balmy in the mornings across the water. The afternoons are a different story. More about that later in the week. We are here for one night for a concert, and it was fabulous. When you can’t always have The Eagles at The Sphere in Las Vegas, you can have The Long Run at Peachtree Pointe on Lake Lanier in Georgia.
We love to listen to all different kinds of music, but when it truly comes down to choosing a favorite, we’re Eagles fans. On days we are home and working around the house, we’ve got Pandora on the Eagles station, blasting it through Google Home as we work. If we’re traveling, same thing – it’s an Eagles station for us as we coast down the open road. We have our favorite songs, and even our favorite line from Take it to the Limit that will stop us in our tracks wherever we are, no matter what we’re doing, and where we’ll wait for that line and look to each other and answer “YES” after the question is asked: If it all fell to pieces tomorrow, would you still be mine??
We flew out to Las Vegas in February to see them perform at the Sphere, and that was as close to Eagles heaven on this planet as it gets. Nothing can touch that, but when I saw in our Georgia magazine that a tribute band, The Long Run, would be performing on Lake Lanier just a couple hours north of us and that the tickets were only $15 apiece to benefit the Georgia Mountain Food Bank, I snapped up two and booked a campsite at Margaritaville for a quick overnight getaway.
We set up on Site 60 and went exploring.
Boo Radley and Ollie loved the little trails leading to the lake.
We rented a golf cart to get to the concert, and I snapped this picture at dark on our way back.
This may be the most scenic outdoor concert venue in Georgia with boats covering the lake.
It was a beautiful evening, but we must go home today. We’ll stop and visit my Aunt Ann and Uncle Tom on the way through Atlanta. Uncle Tom, who turned 90 last December, has been itching to see the new RV and watch how we set it up. We can’t wait for some OK Cafe food and great company!
And we’re thinking of coming back in September for the magic of the Hot Air Ballon Fest. Check out Lake Lanier’s website and upcoming events here.
Our host today for the third and final day of the August Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com is Joanne Emery, who inspires us to write poems about being deep in nature and the sensory and inner feelings associated with it. You can read her full prompt, and the poems of others, here. My poem today will follow the photos of our trail walk we took on Saturday.
Over the weekend, we took our two four-legged sons Boo Radley and Ollie to F. D. Roosevelt State Park for a quick getaway in the Wayfarer. While there, we took a hike along Mountain Creek Trail, and even though it was hot, the shade provided a respite from the extreme temperatures and the heat advisory in effect.
We like to start the day at the top of the mountain with a picnic breakfast overlooking the valley below Pine Mountain. Where many campers cook full breakfasts on outdoor kitchens, we like to take the easy route and buy coffee and muffins at the registration center and find a picnic table. The boys expect bites of blueberry muffin, and sometimes we cave in to their pressure.
The hike begins with Briar and Boo Radley in the lead, and Ollie and I follow. We make sure they stay on leashes in case we encounter other critters – human, canine, or reptilian, or other – on the trails. On Saturday, we did not meet or pass one other person. In fact, the trail was eerily silent of birdsong, traffic, voices, and even rustling of leaves in the wind.
The different types of mushrooms are always fascinating to me, including this one that is a shelf/bracket fungus that is either turkey tail or a lookalike. We also saw several patches of bright orange colored chicken of the woods and oyster mushrooms as well.
F. D. Roosevelt State Park has a naturalist who offers foraging classes on occasion when mushrooms are bountiful, and I have always wanted to attend the session and learn more about mushrooms and their benefits. I would still be reluctant to eat a wild mushroom, but I’d love to learn more about them.
Getting across the bridges is always interesting. Boo Radley hesitates and sometimes decides to go around the side. Ollie never hesitates and always turns around to be sure I made it across safely once he’s on the other side (how your dog tells you you’re old without telling you you’re old). Even though they’re schnoodles, they have the sense of adventure of sled dogs sometimes – they put themselves in four-wheel drive and pull us along.
They like to play in the streams, and as long as the water is running clear, we let them. On Saturday, they took drinks and walked around to cool off when we took a short break to let them play in the creek.
The natural ferns speak to me in whispers of my mother, reminding me I’m fortunate not to have crippling anxiety, my father echoing her: stress is a killer, I can hear him say. But not in these woods, not on this trail, not deep in nature. Nature heals.
I’m surprised I remembered the fairy tree door, but I knew when I reached the top of one hill that it would be on the other side. Sure enough, it was there, protecting the forest treasures inside – fairies, woodland critters, swag for those who take one and leave one.
And I kept watching for signs of fall in all the heat. Here and there, dotting the trail, were red or yellow leaves. I picked up several fallen acorns and put them in my pocket. I reflected on yesterday’s post about Noah and his wife, and the hope God sends in leaves. Yes, my answer is clear: God does still send hope in leaves. Ask and ye shall receive.
On Mountain Creek Nature Trail, Saturday August 15
To prepare for The Next Chapter of travel in retirement, I’m learning a whole new way of wayfaring in our Tiffin Wayfarer 25 RW. My love of sleeping around the world in confined places started as a young child when my grandparents had a truck camper and went to the fish camp at Fernandina Beach for long weekends of camping and fishing. My parents came, too. Mom and Dad would pitch a tent, while my grandparents would put me to bed in their space above the truck cab and convert the dinette table into a bed for themselves. I think that’s where camping fever took hold of me, bypassing completely any love of fresh fried fish. I loved the cross-breeze of opening windows at night. Several tents, a pop-up, a teardrop and two bumper pull campers later, we decided to move to a Class C so we could blend more traveladventures into our lives.
And that’s where Harvest Hosts comes in. We’ve been members for over two years, but this weekend is the first time we’ve actually used our membership benefits.
We’ve mostly camped in State Parks and other private campgrounds, but we’ve joined a unique movement that has been gaining traction over the past few years for its innovative and inexpensive mutual benefits for travelers and business owners. Harvest Hosts allows travelers to purchase a year’s membership that offers one night of free camping per stay at wineries, farms, breweries, churches, and other types of businesses with space to park overnight. With a membership, we get full access to the directory of thousands of free overnight options. We can request additional nights in the same place, but many travelers use Harvest Hosts to get to a place where they are camping or staying for multiple nights. So on a cross-country journey where we might drive a few hours a day and then pull in somewhere to sleep at 6 or 8 different Harvest Hosts along the way, we could use one free night in each place for just the cost of membership and a purchase of something they’re selling as a way of providing some business for them.
We picked a brewery just twenty minutes down the road for our first Harvest Hosts stay, and already we see the attraction.
I used the map to find a place close by – just to test the experience. It’s all part of the learning phase of knowing new and different ways to be an RVer. I requested a same-day stay at the place we chose, Towerhouse Farm Brewery, and we pulled in and followed their check-in directions for the space to park and set up. Then, we put out the slide, leveled the rig, and started the generator before walking over to their dine-in option to have dinner and sample their craft beer.
We ran into some friends who were there having drinks and bar snacks, and so we joined them at their table and listened to the live music and shared stories. I work with one of them in the same office, and have taught with the other. They, too, are camping folks, so our stories were of travel and interesting people we’ve met along the way.
After dinner, we walked the dogs and checked out the lay of the land before retiring for the evening, There is a fairground in close proximity on this 80-acre family farm-turned-brewery tract, where they grow their own hops.
An important thing I learned about Harvest Hosts sites is to read the reviews more carefully. We’d read on the reviews that this was near train tracks, but we had no idea that the train would come by every four hours and that we would be parked right next to the tracks. Despite a shift from our typical night of unbroken rest, we made the best of it and appreciated all the things we loved ~ walking to and from dinner, seeing a new place, having an impromptu dinner with friends, and of course the joy of having our two schnoodles there for the excitement. And the train wasn’t enough to be a dealbreaker for staying there again – – we probably would!
Boo Radley (L) and Ollie (R)
The best part of camping with dogs is that they show us it’s okay to find joy being in small spaces with those we love. They would want you to know that while they let us believe it’s us they really want to be with, it’s more about getting that one small bite of a powdered donut at breakfast that makes them true camping dogs.
Our overnight spot at Tower Farmhouse Brewery
We can’t wait to discover more places along the way as we journey out more frequently in retirement. It’s not the draw of the popular places that we enjoy most – – it’s the places off the beaten path that hold just as much gravity in their own GPS points that anywhere else holds – only quieter and less crowded, despite the occasional trains.
Bryan Ripley Crandall, our host today for Day 9 of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com, lives in Stratford, Connecticut, where he directs the Connecticut Writing Project and is Professor of English Education at Fairfield University. He co-hosts National Writing Project’s The Write Time.
He shares his process and the directions by inspiring us to write about our homes and places we’ve lived. I’m not thinking past today – I’m thinking future.
Driving through stunning mountains alongside a clear blue lake on a sunny day
When the high school teacher called asking if I would be willing to come write poetry alongside students, I jumped at the offer. As a District Literacy Specialist mostly wrapped up in the operational world of data and school improvement, I miss the opportunities of the classroom. That’s where we make the biggest difference.
She read to me the AP Standard on taking poetry from prose and wanted to feature blackout poetry. As we chatted, I shared with her my blog post that day and gave her a copy of 90 Ways of Community, a book on poetry written by one of my writing groups. Together, we considered the various poetry forms that we could use if we modeled the process ~ blackout and found poetry were already on the list, but we added Haiku, X Marks the Spot, Acrostic, Golden Shovel, and Zip Odes as a geographic timestamp bonus of sorts. The students have already created their own personal writing, and we’ll show them how I used a blog post to extract poetry and urge them to do the same.
We’ll model the process.
We’ll feature an overview of possibilities – – a menu of choices – – and then watch their creativity flow onto their paper like they’re mining for gems that they pull out to polish and sparkle.
I’ll remind them that poetry is a process – – not a product. In fact, I’ll probably open the class with something like, “poets and artists have a mindset of creating a lot of bad poems and a lot of bad art.” They’ll wonder who the crazy lady is, but I’ll explain what I mean: perfection is not the goal. Writing is the goal. Thinking is the goal. Not every race is a marathon, not every photo wins awards, and not every book gets 5 stars – – it’s finding the pieces of what we do well and building on those parts so that the process becomes somewhat of a habit. I’ll explain to them that I think in metaphors and syllables, and I take a lot of random pictures to come back to little things I see that will work their way into poems.
Take this, for example:
These kids are a big part of my life. Here stand five of my seven grandchildren in the very spot at the top of a mountain in Sevierville where their parents were married in May 2012. Their other grandparents own that land, and at the bottom, there is a fishing pond. Let’s take a deeper look.
Blazing a trail, tackle box and all
I see two boys (yes, they’re boys – they just have lots of hair) exploring the trail that leads to the pond, tacklebox in hand, ready to to cast a line and spend time fishing. I’ll explain to them that already, my thoughts are swirling in metaphors of adventure, seeking, a quest, a tackle box of what it takes to find, a hook for the found thing to be caught, and the patience and grit to stick with it – and the treks through the mud and the weeds to get there.
Because fishing isn’t about the fish. You can go to the grocery store and get fish. You can order fish from a restaurant – or better yet, you can Door Dash fish.
No, fishing is no more about the fish than poetry and art are about perfection. It’s about the adventure and the process, and the wait for just the right inspiration.
Beckham, who never stands still and quiet, is standing still and quiet – fishing!
It’s about engaging in what it takes to do a thing, whether writing a poem or creating art or catching fish. It’s having the stick-to-it-ness to stand still and be quiet for two hours of a morning and be determined when you’d almost always otherwise be doing something else, but you learn to love a thing and know that there is something, something, something that will bite and that you’ll reel it in and be proud of it, whether it’s big or small.
River with his fish
You’ve caught something you’re proud of, and you can’t wait to share it with the world. So you pose for the photo, holding a fish mouth open the way you’ve been taught, holding the fish a little closer to the camera to make it look bigger than it actually is, and you see the great things about your fish.
And then you release it back into the world, knowing that next time you come back, you may catch that same one again – – or something different, like that turtle your sister caught.
Noli’s shoes tell the story: she’s seizing the day!
Either way, the one thing you cannot buy, like that Door Dashed fish, is the mud on your own shoes from the lived experience.
And that is what poetry is – life, experience, thinking, waiting, casting a line and seeing what comes up on the end of the hook.
So while I may say I’m going to school today, what I’m really doing is going fishing
Like John Muir, I often feel the mountains calling…..and I must go.
I was reminded of a story Dad told about his grandfather who once lived in Gainesville, Georgia, a mountainous area of our home state. Somewhere along the way, a rock marking his homestead was moved from that place in Gainesville by a family member to Dad’s house on St. Simons Island, Georgia, and one day this month, my brother and I will be retrieving it to go to our cousin Kathy Gilmer’s house. Kathy is compiling a book of family stories and will be the next keeper of the rock. I’ve often wondered where my inner mountain calling came from, and now I know how the mountain spirit got in my soul. Over the years, people have asked me how I could move away from the beach. Let me tell you something: densely-populated tourist-thronged beaches ripe with heat and humidity hold no sway over the tranquility of mountains in the early morning when the mist is rising and a veil of silence hangs low before sunrise. The clean air, the cool temperatures, the majestic views, and the vineyards are just as pure as the ocean, without the need for flood insurance.
So I did what any good daughter channeling her inner mountain gypsy would do right after Dad died and there was a space of resetting between the final days, the death, the funeral, and the business of closing down shop.
I rented an Airbnb in Ellijay and took my soul Schnauzer, Fitz, on a dog-friendly vineyard-hopping tour. Our first stop was Engelheim (translation: angel home) Vineyards, where Fitz’s German roots inspired me to order the Riesling, and every last sip was divine.
We must keep our sense of adventure alive…..whether with wine or with travel excursions or with ice cream, as we discussed in some of Dad’s final days of his life. The nurse in the hospital had offered him only vanilla or chocolate, and my brother, sister in law and I were discussing this with Dad. You can listen here:
Engelheim Vineyards
a glass of Riesling with Fitz
perfect afternoon
My vineyard hopping buddy Fitz with a glass of Riesling at Engelheim Vineyards in Ellijay, Georgia – cheers to the German breed and the German wine!
At the end of each month, (or beginning), I review my yearly goals and spend some time reflecting on how I’m doing in living the life I want to live ~ a way of becoming my own accountability partner and having frequent check-ins to evaluate my progress. I’m still in the process of revising some of my goals as I encounter successes…..and setbacks. New goals have asterisks for the month of November, when I will report on them in a few weeks. For the month of October, here’s my goal reflection:
Category
Goals
My Progress
Literature
Read for Sarah Donovan’s Book Group
Send out Postcards
Blog Daily
I participated in the October book discussion with Sarah’s reading group for Reader, Come Home: The Reading Brain in a Digital World. I’ll participate in the book discussion for Assessment 3.0 this month. Time for reading has been scarce lately, but Audible is a good way to try to keep up the pace when all I can do is multi-task.
I sent no postcards this month.
I continue to blog daily, and the daily writing and reflecting is a wonderful habit for me. I don’t feel complete without some form of daily writing, and the blog is a way of continuing the habit.
I had a Zoom meeting with Ruth Ayers of Choice Literacy about writing for her website. I look forward to spending some time writing about local literacy events.
Creativity
*Decorate for fall
*Create Shutterfly Route 66
I created a surprise ducking of our office. I used tiny ducks left over from my brother in law’s birthday ducking and put them to use in the office, even adding Halloween ducks to the lineup.
I have been trying to get to Shutterfly since July, so if I haven’t accomplished this goal by the end of October, I may give up on this one. Update: I’m giving up on this goal.
Spirituality
Tune in to church
Pray!
Keep OLW priority
We have been tuning in to church. With Dad preaching every Sunday in October and a few Sundays ahead of that, it makes the church home hunt take a back seat until my childhood church gets a new preacher, since I have the opportunity to hear Dad.
My car is still my prayer chamber for daily prayer, and there’s so much to give thanks for. I continue my conversations with the good Lord each morning and afternoon.
I’m still keeping my OLW my priority: pray!
Reflection
Spend time tracking goals each month
I’m tracking goals, revising, and considering some new categories as I look at my goal table.
Self-Improvement
*Reach top of weight range
This is a setback for me this month. I’ve hit major stress and gained weight, despite joining WW. I need to set a firm date and get the mental mindset that it takes to stay on track. I have work to do. Update: every day, the diet is starting “tomorrow.” I seriously need a good mindset to start back. I’m keeping this goal. I need to get on track. Tomorrow.
Gratitude
Devote blog days to counting blessings
I begin the days this way and end them giving thanks as well.
Experience
Embrace Slow Travel
Focus on the Outdoors
I’ve taken a trip in October to F D R State Park for a Little Guy Southern States Meet Up. We met people who have the same kind of camper we have, and we even signed up for next year’s meet up in Tennessee at Roan Mountain State Park. My brother and his fiancee came for a visit during Fall Break, and it was wonderful having some time together with them.
I’m still focusing on the outdoors with birdwatching adventures and camping. We also built our own fire pit foundation for the fire pit my son gave us for Christmas last year.
I have a family member who celebrated a birthday in September, so we enjoyed a trip up to Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky this past weekend.
Last spring when I visited her, she mentioned that she’d loved exploring the colorfully-lit caves at Ruby Falls in Chattanooga, Tennessee so much that she’d wanted to visit more caves. So we headed over to Dunbar Cave in Clarksville, Tennessee back in April but were disappointed when all the tickets were sold out. I promised that when I returned in the fall, we’d tour a cave together.
Mammoth Cave
If you’ve ever been to Mammoth Cave, you may already know it’s the longest cave system in the world and that it gets its name from its immense size. We chose the self-guided tour on the last day of September so we could enjoy the cave at our own pace, but we only saw one small section of this natural wonder since the entire cave is 426 miles in total length and growing by the year as more discoveries are made by cave explorers. The lantern tour was recommended as one of the best tours, so we are planning a return trip to see it by lantern light the way that early spelunkers would have seen it – – without electric lights.
To set the spooky tone for the month on the first day of October, we went to The Bell Witch Cave in Adams, Tennessee to hear the historical accounts of the Bell Witch’s terrorizing of the Bell family back in the 1800s, even sending a United States President running from the place. We toured the replica cabin and the actual cave where she was said to have frequented. It is said that she saved a child when he got stuck in the cave one summer. For all the evil she is said to have caused, she did do something good, apparently.
Inside the Bell Witch Cave, full of tight squeezes and ledge climbing
Please share the most fascinating caves you’ve visited in the comments. I’m adding to our list, so I’d love to know which ones would be recommended and which ones would not. I would highly recommend Mammoth Cave for its balmy temperature and fascinating history, but I would not recommend the Bell Witch Cave unless you are very steady on your feet and do not mind squeezing through tight spaces on rocks with a cold-water creek running underfoot. You have to sign an accident waiver, which should have been my first sign – – especially since last year at the end of September, I missed the last step at work and broke my ankle (redefining fall break). I lucked out this year and walked away without injury, but I’m starting to admit that my age may need to be a risk factor in my adventure assessments going forward. I’ll also add that Fantastic Caverns in Missouri is my favorite cave adventure to date (it was discovered, in part, by a lost dog) because I appreciated being driven through the cave in a jeep instead of having to crawl or walk through it – or swim.
Both recent excursions were fun, though, especially as we have long sought reprieve from the brutal heat of summer. There’s nothing like the 54-degree-year-round cool of a cave to welcome the balmy feel of fall!
Two of my goals this year are spending more time in nature and taking my camera along more to be intentional about observations as I work to improve my photography. Sunday at Hamburg State Park turned out to be a gorgeous day, and I wanted to take my camera back to the mill we’d toured the previous day to look around the dam outside and see what all was in the area of the bridge and the creek. We drove the short distance from our campsite to go exploring, but we decided to leave the dogs in their soft-sided kennel in the car with the windows cracked since the temperatures were cool. In areas like these, you never know what might be lurking under a log or near the water, so we left them in the truck to nap as we kept an eye on them from the bottom of the ramp near the water.
There are birdhouses all around Hamburg State Park, and as I checked information on my eBird account and Merlin app, I discovered that this was a birding hotspot. Just a few seconds of sound recording proved that there were many different species singing from the tops of the trees. Swallows, bluebirds, a variety of warblers, blue-gray gnatcatchers, and cardinals topped the lists in a few spots, along with vireos and wrens. I saw an Eastern Kingbird, too.
But swooping down first on one side of the dam and then the other was a Great Egret with a wide wingspan, its legs looking as skinny as those wire marshmallow roasters we hold over the fire, trailing in flight behind him.
I dashed across the road to get a glimpse from the bridge, clicking away all the while, as he led me straight to his friend – – a Great Blue Heron. They waded in the water on their thin backward-scissoring legs, scanning for birds, their necks craning up, down, and sideways with an odd humor, much like a dog that cocks his head back and forth when he strains to understand. Watching these birds was a highlight of my entire weekend!
I heard my husband calling my name, trying to get my attention from afar and be quiet all at the same time. He was standing frozen still, telling me to have my camera ready. I headed in his direction as he urged me to come quickly but approach slowly.
There. Do you see on that tree stump?
He pointed at the base of the stump just across the water, a few feet away.
I was looking for a bird.
I wasn’t expecting a snake.
But there it was, a venomous Cottonmouth, as big around as a giant summer sausage with its Zorro mask and owl eye patterns down its sides, looking a lot like an ellipsis inside parentheses to an English teacher. It had been approaching the top of the tree stump and turned around to seek shelter in the hole at the base when it saw my husband. It stopped briefly to flick its forked tongue at us for interrupting its plans, took us in for just a moment eye to eye, then continued on its way to shelter beneath the ground.
I felt blessed to have seen this snake in the wild (happy, of course, that it was on the other side of the water), and even more glad we’d left the dogs in the car. I was also counting my blessings that I could positively identify the snake. You see, a year ago, I joined two Georgia snake groups that are monitored by expert herpetologists who identify any snake posted on the page with a quick turnaround time. I’ve learned how to tell commonly mistaken species apart and gained an appreciation for the extensive role of snakes in our ecosystem. The groups are What Kind of Snake is This? Georgia and Georgia Snake Identification and Education, both on Facebook. As soon as I posted the photo and location, the response from the expert confirmed what I had learned from repeated similar sightings posted by others.
Venomous Cottonmouth, Agkistrodon piscivorus. Keep a safe distance to watch this one!
I’m grateful today for fascinating moments like these. I’m abundantly grateful for the men and women who fought bravely defending this nation and its places that I love and who ultimately gave their lives for the peace I enjoy today in these state parks full of quirky, underappreciated, and often misunderstood wildlife. I’m praying for the families whose hearts are heavy with remembering the joy their fallen loved ones brought, missing all the memories they sacrificed so that I could enjoy making these memories today. For us, this day is not about a day off from work grilling hot dogs in merriment, but one of taking time to realize that the rights and freedoms we have today have come only because those before us fought for them – and died for them.
And that is how we are keeping Memorial Day a sacred time of remembering and appreciating.
Hamburg Mill DamBarn SwallowDay LiliesEastern BluebirdGreat EgretGreat Blue Heron and Great EgretGreat Blue Heron and Great EgretMy husband, standing across the creek from the CottonmouthVenomous CottonmouthVenomous Cottonmouth showing its forked tongueA lovely sunset
Common Threads 