Early morning, Cades Cove

We got up at 5:45 to get to Cades Cove by opening of the gate. (we were in the cove last night until dark!) The first thing we saw was the huge herd gallop in from the far pasture for breakfast. Seeing close to 50 horses gallop in, in small waves, was stunning and such a gift. We were able to identify the same small groups within the larger herd and we had to smile when the last straggler, a chestnut with a white stripe, meandered in until he realized he was truly the last one in sight and then he picked up a gallop and caught up with his herd.

There were bears, deer, crows, a few goldfinches, and one very sad dead coyote who we think had been hit by a car.

Cades Cove is such a wonderful place. It's been years since I was here and it's so nice going multiple times this trip. Mid-day, sunset, sunrise, and tonight we'll go again. 

feet in the river

Dear daughter and I are taking a long weekend pre-fall semester getaway in the Great Smokies. We're going to ground ourselves with rock, center ourselves with rushing water, and enjoy two of our favorite places on the planet, Cades Cove and Elkmont.

First thing we did upon arrival was stop and put feet in the river. See you on the other side. 

Santa Cruz: Natural Bridges State Beach

Back to travelogue posts for a bit. We spent some time on the beach our last full day in Santa Cruz. Everyone recommended Natural Bridges and it was lovely. The sky and water were so blue.

I love the gulls and how they lined up along the water's edge. 

And how they perched on the huge rock.

As a girl I read and loved Jonathan Livingston Seagull. I haven't read it since then and don't recall much about the writing style or the story itself, but it left me with a sensation that gets evoked whenever I'm close to gulls. I was very drawn to this one.

The beaches in North Carolina don't have these amazing rock formations and this one with the opening was mesmerizing. Watching the waves break through the opening was magical.

This looked very much like the doorway to another world to me. 

Leaving the beach I noted all the footprints criss-crossing and that too looked like something from a different place and time.

One of the best things about travel is seeing places that look different from those with which we're familiar. It reminds us how big the world is and how many things there are to see and experience. And what has become everyday to us fades as we see new and different things. It does something to our perspective, in good ways. 

November Hill farm journal, 15

Today after trimming hooves we took advantage of the cloudy sky and temps in the 70s to walk the entire perimeter of the 5.5 acres we hope to buy. We had a machete with us and once we got down our path and into the very back of our property we had to cut a path through the brush to get to the other side of the power cut.

I was down there last week but all the rain has created a huge growth spurt in the late summer plants. We climbed the hill to the other side and made our way through the border of trees that were left along the entire edge of the 5.5 acres. From this side it looks almost normal - though we could see light through that border for the first time since we have lived here. But on the other side it looked like a battlefield, or a mass murder. Tree stumps littered the entire area as far as the eye could see. Many smaller-trunked trees were taken down and left behind, their only crime being wood not valued or their proximity to the larger trees.

This forest was so thick before being cut the ground was pure mulch. Soft and cushiony, now strewn with branches and trees, chips of wood, and the tracks of the big cutting machines.

It was sad to see but we focused on the line that will be drawn and I busied myself walking what I hope will one day be our perimeter trail. There's a natural path that runs just on the other side of the tree border and I think it will be a nice hack on horseback or walk on foot.

It was further than we imagined along that straight line to the far edge of what we would own. Once we got to it we cut across the grassy area to the "near" side of forest that directly adjoins our current line. The walk from that furthest edge back to November Hill took a lot longer than we expected as well. It's a gorgeous woodland section of land, with huge old trees but plenty of room for walking. There's a rock outcropping along one side and on the other the fence that marks the 11-acre wood that is beside us. It too was cut (3 years ago, on the day Salina died) but now it has 10 and 12 foot trees already. I have a parallel dream of buying it too.

We have never walked that area before today and it was nice to see what might be ours - the little woodland path I made behind our back field would extend into a true nature trail if we get this parcel. There's a perfect spot for a little cottage too. 

Just as we crossed over the line onto November Hill I had a little sensation of ownership of the new parcel. I hope it's an omen of success in this venture. It makes me happy to think of November Hill growing and the November Hill deer herd having refuge no matter what might come to the larger tract of land. 

It felt so much bigger than what I've been thinking. I'm excited and happy we made this trek today.

November Hill farm journal, 14

We have hit some snags in the purchase of the additional acreage and this week has been spent slowly working through them. The remainder tract survey cost turned out to be huge and as this is something that has to be paid outright we opted to get a second estimate from a different surveyor.

The owner/seller had stated that she needed a signed offer in hand by yesterday; otherwise the timber company would cut the trees on the 5.5 acres we hope to buy. 

We had a deluge on Wednesday, another yesterday, and more rain overnight. The ground back there is very wet, and I couldn't help hope perhaps too wet for timber machines. Yesterday I walked back to the property line and stood in the pelting rain while a flock of birds sang like mad over the roar of rainfall. The trees along our line, the ones at risk of being cut, were tall and majestic and I sent them hope that they will be spared.

In the feed room 3 spiders had convened to make a triple layer of intricate webs. I took this as a lucky charm. In the house I got a spam email saying my guardian angel is trying to contact me. That put me in mind of my dad, and I asked for his divine intervention to save the trees and make this deal happen.

We are still not certain, but it appears the timbering machines have been removed from the 102 acres. The trees on the 5.5 acres still stand. At least for now, things are holding steady.

Meanwhile I have a second estimate coming in on Monday, our Farm Credit ready to work with me to make this happen, and possibly a fat check to write if we proceed, but it feels like this dream is still on the tracks. 

This morning the sun has come out and pulled my attention from the back line to the back yard, where the sunflowers have become a center of activity. A charm of goldfinches are in the hickory tree making frequent forays to the sunflower heads. Swallowtails are fluttering around them as well, as are other smaller, darker birds and bees. I have found myself going to the window again and again to watch all the activity. The rest of the garden is ragged right now. The tomato vines are producing at a mad pace and most everything else is showing the effects of much sun and now rain. It will soon be time to do a thorough clearing out and preparing for the early fall plantings.

But today I'm enjoying the goldfinches and the butterflies and those huge old trees that stand like sentinels on the back of November Hill.