There are many incredible things about living in the South. I never thought that this is where I would make my home, but it’s grown on me. I can’t quite imagine living anywhere else.
But when the calendar begins its creep towards the end of the year, I feel the pull of a different landscape. I miss the changing leaves. Here in the heart of the Pine Belt, there’s not a whole lot of hardwood forests that herald the changing of the seasons with color beginning to burn across the landscape.
To fix that problem, I used to take an annual camping trip to the mountains. I loved the Land Between the Lakes area in Western Kentucky. I’d load the Honda Accord Coupe up and make my way north. There were a couple of years when I remember it being down into the upper 20s at night, and the puppy dog was inside the sleeping bag with me. I sat bundled up in front of a fire, my book in my lap, a bracing drink in my hand.
Sweet Husband and I are talking about a camping trip in the next couple of weeks. I’m not sure where we will go. A trip to the mountains takes a bit of planning and a couple of extra days off as when you live on the beach, the mountains are at least 8 hours away.
Next year, though. Next year we (or I. It matters not to me. I’m not afraid to go by myself) will have a fall camping trip. I’d like to head to the Smokies again. Leave the puppies with their grandparents or at the spa and make our way north and east so as ti spend a long weekend bundled up and snuggled up, hiking through gorgeous scenery.
In the meantime, though, I have a few trees here and there, and when they begin their preparations for a winter sleep, I do my best to capture them.