The call of place

There's a place that I love. Before my granddaughters were born here in Nashville, when I retired, I was going to move to this place to live out the rest of my life.

Now, of course, I choose people over places and stay here in Kingston Springs, so that my granddaughters can visit with me weekly, so that I can see them and touch them and love them. 

A river runs through it.

In stark contrast to the Rockies, these mountains are older and look softer, worn down by time and weather.

But this place still calls my name from time to time, and I still occasionally dream of moving there. But as year leads to year, I doubt I'll ever live there.

Truly, the mountains look smoky or misty at times.

It's Bryson City in Southwestern North Carolina. The little town is surrounded by the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains or the Appalachians.

It's cold white water rivers for kayaking and smoky mountains for hiking. I first went there when I was nearly forty and had just begun white water kayaking. And I fell in love with the place.

Blue grey and hazy from many perspectives, the colors are magnificient.

I was there again this past weekend, kayaking two white water rivers with friends--the Tuckaseegee (Cherokee for turtle place) and the Natahala (Cherokee for river of the noon day sun).

The mountains in all their glorious textures.

To honor my age, I have quit camping, which is what I did for the last 25 years when I went white water kayaking. And by the way, that was the first time that I had ever camped! We would usually camp at Lost Mine Campground, back in the mountains.

I have fond memories of one campsite, in particular, I named it the waterfall campsite. It was a quiet, private site behind a huge natural-made rock wall; it had a tumbling creek on two sides and a waterfall streaming down into that creek. The water sang us to sleep each night.

Now I stay in a sweet little 1950's hotel in Bryson City called the Rosewood Inn. It's right on the Tuckaseegee river, and I always get one of their "river rooms." As a matter of fact, here was the view as I drank my morning coffee on my little balcony this past weekend.

This is the Tuckaseegee River as it winds its way through Bryson City. It is white water further up the mountains and up stream, where we put in at Dillsboro.

Here is my little friend that comes back year after year. It is a rather large gold fish (that someone must have released into the river long ago), and her grey buddy (can you see him?). that swim right below the balcony.

I want to go back to this place more often and explore all of its ins and outs. My plan is to return for a couple or three weeks at a time in every season (but in the off-seasons)--winter, spring, summer, and fall. Instead of taking one big trip in 2017, I would like to return to this place several times next year.

Because the place calls me back year after year. And this next year, I want to listen to her and fully heed her call.