Monday, 23 January 2006
I know it’s only January, but I have a hankering for a mountain hike, I think because we had such a spectacular one last year, when we descended to the west from Brasstown Bald, the highest place in Georgia. The weather was unsurpassed; we started in the clouds, with leafless winter vegetation around us. As we descended, we moved with the seasons, seeing buds, then tiny leaves, assorted mushrooms, then finally reaching the road in full-out spring leaves, with happy lusty-strong poison ivy.
During yesterday’s walk, however, John and I plodded through rain during early rush hour, no sparkle to the sodden landscape. I found the urban noises and looming dusk rendering the adventure so totally dissimilar, I dreamed about the Brasstown descent as an escape from the Atlanta drone.