Sunday, September 22, 2013

Of Black Bears and Bonfires

The freshness of Autumn mornings surround me as I crunch through the mountains' fallen leaves and wander in her crisp and dense woods. Traveling into the calling hillsides brings a sort of euphoria; a calming freedom. 
Camping in the dewy (and later stormy) dampness of an Appalachian fall is one of my favourite feelings, where all I know is my banjo, my drum, and my muddy boots.  Sounds of  the black bears and the howl of the woods, coupled with the smell of campfires and wet earth is so very enriching~ a feeling I hate to pack away.
***Trying to figure out the setting on the camera, a task we never mastered!
In the chill, calm before the storm, we hiked to the summit to breathe in paradise. 
**The festival we stumbled upon a couple years ago has become a late September destination.  Mandolins, banjos, dancing, and true bluegrass mingle with fresh cider and sasparilla.  People who appreciate my genuine need to wander and don't ask me to stop, only to 'sit a spell'.

** A diner stop on the way home before hitting another festival. Good foods, good tunes, and good folks= my kind of existence.

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