I wanted to snap a picture on the way back to the house this morning, but I couldn’t. And I had a flood of thoughts. Like, this is exactly what words are for. To describe the ‘smoke’ ascending from the hills on mornings, after rain. And this reminded me of the Smoky Mountains.
And again, my mind takes me back to that coloring book I had as a child. The one showing native Americans sewing moccasins and making bread out of corn on flat stone surfaces. And that the descendants of them are still here. Or the fact that I am where they live!
I see the mystique in the mist on mornings like this.
Pictures are from last August, from the Smoky Mountains.
Love the Smokies! Been visiting since I was a kid.