Grey Eagle (Black Mountain) NC

 
Grey Eagle was the first (original?) name by which the Euopean explorers knew this town. We don't know what the Indigenous Native Americans might have called it. When the railroad came through in the 19th century, they named it Black Mountain. There are several of the chain of black mountains as part of the Appalachians visible from the town. They are the oldest mountains in the US according to geologists.

The pink caboose reminds visitors of the historic influence the railroad had on this town. The little station is now home to Black Mountain Depot arts and crafts. And those aren't the black mountains in the distance, because this is looking south, and they are to the north of the town.

Looking at the caboose from the other side of the tracks, and you can see why I called it pink!

The cherry trees are all blooming away, after a warm spell. It's now turned cool again. Thus is springtime every year.

This is the backside of the Grey Eagle monument.

Today's quote:

I am a child of the Milky Way. The night is my mother. I am made of the dust of stars. Every atom in my body was forged in a star. When the universe exploded into being, already the bird longed for the wood and the fish for the pool. When the first galaxies fell into luminous clumps, already matter was struggling toward consciousness. The star clouds of Sagittarius are a burning bush. If there is a voice in Sagittarius, I’d be a fool not to listen. If God’s voice in the night is a scrawny cry, then I’ll prick up my ears. If night’s faint lights fail to knock me off my feet, then I’ll sit back on a dark hillside and wait and watch. A hint here and a trait there. Listening and watching. Waiting, always waiting, for the tingle in the spine.

Chet Raymo, The Soul of the Night: An Astronomical Pilgrimage