Greening of the mountains

 I've reveled in seeing the slow (sometimes overnight!) movement of trees' turning green up the slopes from the valleys this spring.

So a few days ago (not on a weekend) I drove up on the Blue Ridge Parkway to see what there was on higher slopes.

Haw Creek Valley overlook from the Blue Ridge Parkway. Most greenery was evident on south facing slopes, or where the roadway had allowed more sun to hit the trees.

I continued to the next, my favorite, overlook.

A panorama shows the little curb of the extension of the overlook, which is designed for disabled access. I saw a jet plane off in the distanced higher than those clouds. And then suddenly the distant sound hit me, somehow carried over many miles, and it was gone again before the plane was out of sight.  A few minutes later I looked straight up and another plane was going overhead quite tiny to see, and I had it's sound just for a brief moment.

Somewhere in that distance is Black Mountain, but it's behind a ridge I think.  I consider this my backyard. I'll take my little chair up here and enjoy the changes through the seasons a few times this year. Once I brought a book. Nope, don't want to look at anything except this immensity of trees, and earth and rocks thrown up into mountains. It's about as far to drive from my home as it is to a doctor's office in Asheville. Guess which one I like to do most!

There are wonderful breezes that come and go on an afternoon. I thought I should have brought sunblock, though the sun was mostly behind me at around 3 pm.

This is my temporary header photo. Since I change the header all the time, I want to keep it here in a post.

I was glad to see a bit of dogwood in bloom. It was hard to get a photo of it, because you can't exactly pull over along the parkway. There are specific pull-out places where people park to go hiking, so those were the only choices besides the overlooks.

Slowing down and taking this through the windshield left a lot to be desired.

Today's quote:

Our brokenness is also the source of our common humanity, the basis for our shared search for comfort, meaning, and healing. Our shared vulnerability and imperfection nurtures and sustains our capacity for compassion.

BRYAN STEVENSON