Sharon's blog: Heart Trip

I always get a little restless in October. The summer is winding down, my heart remembers the scent of fall in the mountains. There's nothing like that scent; it's a mix of earthy fallen leaves, damp in the wild brush of undergrowth, fungi popping up overnight. It's the wood smoke from newly wakened wood stoves and fireplaces that take the nip from the chilly misty mornings. It's my mountain memories that won't let go.

I was all caught up, I had some extra time, and the leaves here in western Kentucky had not really started their colorful fall parade. More than the color, though, I missed the scents of my childhood; the scent of the mountains. I had planned to visit some college friends in the eastern part of the state but one of them was sick and we decided to postpone our gathering for another time. I was left with empty days full of some kind of longing, an ache for my mountains.

It was only 300 miles to the edge of my mountains, I reasoned. Only 300 miles and I could be there. I know people all across the state; I'll just get in my car and drive. So without making arrangements for my kitties, knowing they'd be fine for a couple of days, I took off. I needed my mountains, if only for a day. I could do this, oh yes, I could!

And I did.

I have no idea what the tree in the above right is. The misty morning air took away some clarity. It looks like giant magnolia leaves, and the seed pod is similar but smaller. Magnolias are evergreen, so what is this giant leafed tree with its fading leaves?  I was driving though, and didn't take time to really get out and explore; this was a heart trip, not a plant ID trip.

I drove on, following the scent, stopping when a color caught my eye. Tiny though they were, the wild blue gentians grabbed me.

And finally there it was, the color, brighter as the sun rose over the mountains clearing the mist; the day unfolding, just as days did all those years ago.

And the blooms, those tiny fall blooms that one has to search for before they disappear into winter.

Thistles and wild asters and scarlet sage!! If the morning mountain mist hadn't left everything so wet, I would have sat right down in the middle of all of them. It was that beautiful. My heart felt so huge, as if one more thing would make it spill over, and then there was one more thing.  A little mountain fed creek:

It was the perfect day. Sometimes when we do the unexpected, even if it is only for a short time, we do more for ourselves than we could ever do with an itinerary and a plan. I only wanted to see my mountains, to smell the scents, to soak in the colors, to find my roots. That's all I wanted, all I needed. I crammed my heart full of memories, I found myself again.

Looking now at the images, I realize I was craving nature's landscaping. I look around here and see my own feeble attempt, but I needed to see what nature does, not what I do. My roses have a heavenly scent, but it doesn't compare to the scent of fallen leaves, earthy and damp. And it doesn't compare to wood smoke wafting through the valleys and over the tops of trees. It's nature's own magic I needed.

Life can go on now.

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