Moving Mountains
As I stared out the windows over breakfast this morning, there appeared to be more mountains than I remember from times past. There was Betsy's Peak and Katherine's Knob. Cheek and Fender and The Peak, too. Buck and the one with a name I've never known. Sheep Rock. Oh, well. Maybe they just moved around last night. Or, perhaps, though some change in quantum state, new mountains that had always been there, were now visible. Indeed, as Einstein said, "Just because you cannot see the moon doesn't mean it isn't there." Hmmmm.
Yes, I'm back on the mountain after finishing 2006 tax returns down in the flatlands. I actually finished this year with 11 hours remaining! Unfortunately, I had to write the Internal Revenue Service a fat check this time around and am now wearing a barrel for my efforts. I do wish the Blue Ridge Parkway could get a few of my tax dollars to bring it back to the state it was in before we started spending all our children's futures on the War in Iraq.
Anyhow, during the five days I was gone, we got the same strong winds on the mountain as the flatlands. They apparently shook the house so much that my painting easel fell over and disconnected the USB cable to my Web camera. And, that's how I completely missed the nice snow that followed the wind. The plants are terribly confused by it all. Most have given up until May, with only the Lungwort given it the nose thumb. They are back and blooming ... again.
I did not see Sam Walton, 28 Cents and Plain Jane for two days and presumed they were dead and gone. I thought perhaps the wind had blown them out of the water or something. But, late this afternoon, I saw them foraging for food. Unlike Fishy Fish who will practically jump out of the bowl in anticipation of feeding when I approach, these guys are still quite shy.
When Sam and I went for a walk in the woods today we saw that the winds had blown over the second largest hemlock tree on the ledge. It now lays beside two others that Hurricane Hugo toppled. The roots, running over and around the rocks, simply let go.
And, that's what moved the mountains I saw over breakfast today.
Yes, I'm back on the mountain after finishing 2006 tax returns down in the flatlands. I actually finished this year with 11 hours remaining! Unfortunately, I had to write the Internal Revenue Service a fat check this time around and am now wearing a barrel for my efforts. I do wish the Blue Ridge Parkway could get a few of my tax dollars to bring it back to the state it was in before we started spending all our children's futures on the War in Iraq.
Anyhow, during the five days I was gone, we got the same strong winds on the mountain as the flatlands. They apparently shook the house so much that my painting easel fell over and disconnected the USB cable to my Web camera. And, that's how I completely missed the nice snow that followed the wind. The plants are terribly confused by it all. Most have given up until May, with only the Lungwort given it the nose thumb. They are back and blooming ... again.
I did not see Sam Walton, 28 Cents and Plain Jane for two days and presumed they were dead and gone. I thought perhaps the wind had blown them out of the water or something. But, late this afternoon, I saw them foraging for food. Unlike Fishy Fish who will practically jump out of the bowl in anticipation of feeding when I approach, these guys are still quite shy.
When Sam and I went for a walk in the woods today we saw that the winds had blown over the second largest hemlock tree on the ledge. It now lays beside two others that Hurricane Hugo toppled. The roots, running over and around the rocks, simply let go.
And, that's what moved the mountains I saw over breakfast today.
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