When I Was 69

When I Was 69
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Saturday, December 6, 2014

Landing back home

With this scratched window on the plane, I was able to see a bit of the mountains below, then the welcome airport of Asheville, NC

Fontana Lake, photo from internet

So I didn't take my own photos of the great panorama that slid beneath our plane.  However, I did have a fabulous thought as I flew over the wildness of mountains below.

There were so many areas that had been explored and were now owned by man (people, generic humans) but there were probably areas of woods below me which had never felt the footprint of a person.  Could that be?  Surely not.  But I had the sense that some of the ridges and slopes had been there for so long, but a person had never chanced to walk there.   Is that possible?

I noticed that the drought worn sides of the reservoirs and dammed up lakes in Georgia had brilliant clay banks, the orange a contrast against the blue of the water.

Then I noticed that the banks of the next lake (probably Fontana) had a tan color.  I'd left the Georgia clays behind.

And I could see the wandering ribbon of the Blue Ridge Parkway along my own home mountains.

Then I was back into my life.  A little bit different.  Coming into it was like putting on an old coat, it fit, but felt a bit different.  There were areas where I could stretch or ignore, but my attention was definitely changed by my week away.

What a difference seeing Asheville airport after leaving Atlanta's airport!
Quote for today:

Every morning is like a new reincarnation into this world. Let us take it then for what it is and live each moment anew.
Paul Brunton

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