Autumn Color in the Blue Ridge Parkway – Cherokee to Asheville, NC

Driving the Blue Ridge Pkwy ©2018 Bo Mackison

The idea is to fit the Parkway into the mountains as if nature has put it there.
~ Stanley Abbott, Landscape Architect for the Parkway

What a grand day for an autumn color drive! The sun was bright, the trees were in peak colors at the lower elevations, and, surprisingly, the traffic was minimal on a Monday in late October. We were heading to Hendersonville, North Carolina, en route to Patti Digh’s Life is a Verb Camp. (More on camp coming in later posts — it’s my annual recharge!)

We left the Cherokee Visitors Center in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park around noon and headed south towards Asheville.

Groundbreaking for the 469-mile Blue Ridge Parkway was in late 1932, but it was officially dedicated on September 11, 1987, fifty-two years after construction began.

After President Franklin D. Roosevelt visited Virginia’s first Civilian Conservation Corps road building camp where they were building the Skyline Parkway through the new Shenandoah National Park, he approved a similar CCC project, with the intention of creating jobs in the rural areas of North Carolina, Tennessee and Virginia.

Blue Ridge Vista ©2018 Bo Mackison

Plenty of opportunity to pause and gaze at the scenic mountains in the distance. It makes for slow travel, but every stop is worth it.

Log Hollow Overlook ©2018 Bo Mackison

Trees! Shades of oranges and reds, yellows and browns, with a scattering of evergreen green. Log Hollow Overlook offers a stunning view of Looking Glass Rock, one of the largest masses of granite in the Eastern United States. This rock gets its name from the shimmering mirror effect when sunlight hits its surface after a rainfall.

Blue Ridge Parkway ©2018 Bo Mackison

Nearly 200 parking areas and overlooks were incorporated into the Parkway’s deisgn so that motorists could enjoy a leisurely ride through the mountains. The road rises to 6,000+ feet at Richland Balsam Overlook in North Carolina. Up and down and around every curve — beauty!

Blue Ridge Autumn Glory ©2018 Bo Mackison

We only drove about 70 miles on the Parkway, but it was a leisurely drive — is it possible to have a drive too leisurely on this scenic road? — with many stops at the overlooks and a desert and coffee break at Mt. Pisgah Inn. This inn, at nearly 5,000 ft elevation, is the highest place for lodging on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Imagine how gorgeous is the view from the motel rooms’ balconies! (Sorry, no photos of the Pisgah Inn — we were in a hurry to get to our cabin in Hendersonville by night fall!)

Exploring Cades Cove in Great Smoky Mountain National Park

The sun was shining; the trees were glowing.

On our way to Asheville, North Carolina, we took a side trip in the Smokies and drove the Cades Cove Auto Loop. It was a lot of extra driving, but well worth the time. The trees were like a towering cathedral, the interior a sacred space.

Open spaces gave a view of the countryside. These clearings were first settled by Europeans in the 1830s. Deer and turkey were plentiful along the route, but none conveniently posed for a photograph.

 

Cades Cove Methodist Church, built by John D. McCampbell. The white frame structure has two front doors, a design that was common in the 1800’s in the Smokies.

Spots of color brightened the way along the 11 mile loop road. Though the traffic was not bumper to bumper, it still took several hours to follow the loop.

Calling Forth Courage while Contemplating Lessons from Nature

Bridge over Starkweather Creek

Bridge over Starkweather Creek © 2014 Bo Mackison

“If we surrendered
to earth’s intelligence
we could rise up rooted, like trees.

Instead we entangle ourselves
in knots of our own making
and struggle, lonely and confused…

If I did surrender to the earth’s intelligence?
Surrender to the earth itself, like a seed dispersed in autumns’ winds.

And drop upon the earth – dark, dank, ripe. Drop upon the earth
and settle in, as layers of leaves and autumn litter cover me, intact, protected.

Footbridge

Crossing the Footbridge © 2014 Bo Mackison

So like children, we begin again…

to fall,
patiently to trust our heaviness.
Even a bird has to do that
before he can fly.”

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

This seed of me, it embraces the darkness
and in the waning light, holding my stories of decay and decline,
enters a period where the only light source is that of inner reflection.

Embraces shadow as darkness makes ready the parts hungering for new life.
Waiting, waiting
in anticipation of unlimited possibilities.

Kangaroo Lake in Door County – The Magic of Studying Details, Then Turning Around

Kangaroo Lake

Kangaroo Lake – South View © 2014 Bo Mackison

The mid-October day was mercurial – one moment skies were blue, the next a wave of gray clouds pushed in from nearby Lake Michigan. Blustery winds buffeted me, causing me to lose my balance more than once. Then calm would descend for a brief respite for the wind and chill.

October in Door County, for sure, Wisconsin’s northeastern most point, a peninsula sticking out into tempestuous Lake Michigan.

Kangaroo Lake is one of the more protected places on the peninsula in fresh water lake in the center of Door County, and a wonderful place to go during the autumn festival days. Most of the crowd who comes to enjoy the views hug the shore of Door County, bay side and lake side. But there is much to be said for the wild beauty of the interior, too.

I loved studying the autumn changes of Kangaroo lake, standing on a narrow bridge of road that crosses the northern most bay. Fallen leaves were bobbing on the surface, the reeds were stripped of there green finery and their fuzzy seeds, and stood knee deep in the cold, stunningly blue water. Beyond, fir trees lined one side of the lake, and deciduous trees in this year’s last blaze of glory hugged the opposite side.

Then the sun disappeared in the scattered clouds.

Once I had taken in the scene with all my senses, as is my habit, I turn around to see what is behind me.

Kangaroo Lake

Kangaroo Lake – North View  © 2014 Bo Mackison

And the sun slid from the cloud cover, causing the lake ripples to shimmer in a sheet of dancing light.

A solitary island caught my attention. Birds were darting from the trees to the water and back again. Creatures were slipping in and out of the shadows and the shoreline brush.

Kangaroo Lake — its two faces. Both to be explored and adored.

Fierce Winds. Fierce Rains. Fierce Color. And an Awakening.

Fall Foliage at Peninsula State Park, Door County Wisconsin

Aspen and Yellow © 2014 Bo Mackison

The winds were fierce, the rains were fierce. Deep in the forest, the rain turned misty. The bright leaves shimmered in yellows and oranges. I followed a muddy path through the forest, trees clumped tightly together, clinging high along the cliffs above Lake Michigan.

Fall Foliage at Peninsula State Park, Door County Wisconsin

Middle Road, Peninsula State Park, Door County Wisconsin © 2014 Bo Mackison

Traveling the Middle Road, nearly deserted because of the inclement weather, a bit like a ride through Middle Earth. Sights of bright trees, sounds of creaking branches, leaves twirling to the ground. An awakening of the senses.

Fall Foliage at Peninsula State Park, Door County Wisconsin

Sanctuary in the Forest © 2014 Bo Mackison

Deep in the forest, the rains stop. Leaves drip, the path is soggy-slippery. And the quiet is held in a heavy tapestry of quaking yellow. Sacred.

Fall Foliage at Peninsula State Park, Door County Wisconsin

Gripping the Earth © 2014 Bo Mackison

Tree roots gripping the earth. I grip the earth. Fierce in determination. Fierce in the sacred. I find myself awakening deep in the forest, soaked with rain, feeling so aware, so alive.