The mountains are calling and I must go. John Muir
When I am at the beach, I marvel at the sight of the ocean, the feel of the water rushing over my feet, the tangy smell of salt, the sound of that tremendous power. Being at the ocean means drinking in beauty on a grand scale.
But… if I can go to the mountains, that’s where I prefer to be. Where we live, we can be in the north Georgia mountains, the foothills of the Appalachians, in about an hour. The drive up starts with some traffic but gradually dwindles until there are only a few cars--or even just one, mine.
Along the way, the scenery changes, too: fewer shopping centers, more trees, and a mountain or two rising the distance. Around every bend, they get closer and bigger. And if it’s fall, the changing colors of the leaves make splotches of brilliance among deep-green evergreens.
My eyes and my heart fill up with the beauty. And my mind lets go of worries and stress.
Fortunately, my husband Mart feels the same way. In fact, when we started dating, he was looking at property in the mountains on which to build a cabin. He decided to put that on the back burner for a while and asked me to marry him. We bought a house close to the forest and the river, but also close to the highway and work and school. And to us, with the woods in the backyard, our house has a cabin-y feel.
Once or twice a year, Mart takes a personal retreat in the mountains. He rents a cabin, drives up mid-week, spends a few days reading and planning, and then I join him later.
Last weekend, we spent several days tucked away in Ellijay, where the fall sunshine and blue sky provided the perfect backdrop for the vibrant fall colors around us.
Ellijay, known for its apple orchards as well as its scenery, draws a crowd in the fall. We stopped by an apple store and picked up a half-peck of Evercrisp, which is a cross between Fuji and Honeycrisp, my two favorite apple flavors. The Evercrisp and the fried apple pies we ate added the taste of fall to the sight of it all around us.
This was the second time we rented a pet-friendly cabin so we could take our dog Owen with us. He seems to like the mountain life, too. After all, he can sleep and walk most anywhere.
One afternoon, we went down to the river, the Coosawattee, and walked Owen in a small park there. All three of us watched as across the river, two male deer scuffled, head-butting each other with their antlers. They didn’t seem particularly fierce. Finally one of them gave in and they both went back to grazing. It was too fine an afternoon to waste on being macho.
The next afternoon, we celebrated Mart’s birthday with a barbecue lunch outside with Owen sitting next to our picnic table. Owen deftly caught any stray pieces of chicken that “accidentally” landed in his mouth. That lunch was just the first of several celebrations for Mart’. I believe in making birthdays last as long as possible.
Even though we stayed in Ellijay for several days, I would have liked one more. I usually feel that way, though, whenever I spend time in the mountains. And that feeling keeps me coming back year after year.
So, how about you? Do you prefer the beach or the mountains? Why? I’d love to know in the comments below.
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