The tunnels on the Parkway (there are 26 of them) were carved out of the Blue Ridge mountains. Most of the work was done by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. Building these tunnels was a costly and hazardous venture. But it had to be done if the road was going to run along the ridge of these famous mountains. I confess that these tunnels are one of my favorite parts of the parkway. They were excavated in the pre-war period using compressed air drills and dynamite. For the most part they were dug out by hand. Little machinery was used with the intention of creating manual labor in depressed economic times.

I love the way summer says good bye with a gentle voice. Our mountain daisies still link like a friend who really doesn’t want to leave because the conversation has been endearing and sweet. “We’ll meet again,” I always say—after fall and winter has come our way. “Good bye, dear friend, good bye.”

I remember my rockin’ horse and how I spent hours on it riding the “range” looking for the Lone Ranger. Okay, I may have just dated myself. The TV programs were reruns, folks.

Always when I get a new lens or camera, there is a learning curve. The first couple of shots are great and then something happens. Usually it is called “user error.” I’m trying to deal with learning how to use an ultra wide angle lens and the place I chose to give it a try was Tallulah Gorge. It makes no sense because as I have written before, there is really bright light at the rim of the gorge and very dark shadows at the bottom. But since I’m not claiming to be a professional photographer, I can do (and will continue to do) goofy things and get away with them.

Cocoa is silvering on the top of her head. I thought about dying her hair, but I know that would be a little messy. She will just have to be herself—no matter what stage of life she’s entering. Here’s a photo of her with Chip—the one who sticks “closer than a brother.”

A few weeks ago while hiking with Mary Erna, we looked up and saw what we instantly knew was an Indian Marker Tree. While researching these trees, I learned that they usually are much older than they look. Native Indians created the odd shape by pruning back some the the tree’s limbs and then by tying down other limbs with leather straps so that the tree grew into a certain shape. The tree they used most often was a white oak sapling.

Marker trees can be spotted all across north Georgia because hundreds still exist. They are usually found along trails that lead to sources of water or on pathways that were viewed as important Indian footpaths. The one in this photo is located in Unicoi State park not very far from the stream that flows away from the base of Amicalola Falls.