Whose woods these are I think I know…

Fresh snow blankets the woods and creates a contemplative and companionable silence in this photo that reminds me of the things I love about snowfall.  I guess most American schoolkids of the right age have read the Robert Frost poem that is the source of my title.  Frost apparently tossed the poem off in a few minutes time, after having been up all night writing a longer and more difficult poem.  It just came to him, the way things sometimes do when you least expect them.  (1 December, 2003  Bane’s cabin, Waynesville, North Carolina)

Country roads, take me home…

The first light of day is a magical time in the Great Smoky Mountains.  I know John Denver was singing about West Virginia, but I see no reason to be a purist about it since Denver wasn’t born with that name and never lived in West Virginia.  Still, it is a beautiful song that reminds me of my “home far away”.  This image was shot from the back porch of the Bane cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains.  (2 November, 2003  Waynesville, North Carolina)

I get up in the morning, I drink a cup of coffee, I look out of the window, I try to get it started…

Taylor’s Turnaround is on the Bane side of the Great Smoky Mountains boundary fence, near the Swag, in Waynesville, North Carolina.  I find it to be a fine place to drink the morning coffee and contemplate the great questions in life: who first thought to call them the Smoky Mountains, why do my toenails keep growing but my hair gave up on the job, and why isn’t Lyle Lovett a household name?  For those who haven’t found Waynesville yet, it’s in western North Carolina not very far from Asheville, and a great little town filled with art and artisans.  Go check it out some time!  (2 November, 2003  Waynesville, North Carolina)