Smithgall Woods is one of my favorite places in northeast Georgia (“one” because I have a several favorites). The thing that sets Smithgall apart is its beauty. The Park Service keeps it pristine. It has one of North Georgia’s premier trout streams. Dukes Creek runs through this specular mountain get-a-way. “Five miles of trails and 18 miles of roads allow hikers and bicyclists to explore hardwoods, streams, and wildlife.”

After lots of exploring and an almost two-mile hike, Cocoa walks down to Dukes Creek to cool off. The stream was clear as glass.

A covered bridge crosses over Dukes Creek.

I just had to take another photo of the trout stream and I could only stand and wish I had a rod and reel.

If I don’t do anything else, I always try to take a drive by the lake on Sunday afternoon. I was really too early for sunset, but thought I would grab this photo anyway. The days are getting longer so I need to reset my watch for later afternoon and early evening photos.

I finished planting about ten hostas today and then grabbed the dogs and headed out for a late afternoon drive around the lake. As I was taking this photo and another one, I could hear fish jumping out of the water. No joke! But if I had my fishing pole, there is no way I would have caught a single one. I don’t think I’m a good fisher “person,” but that won’t stop me from trying trout fishing again one day soon.

I need to stay off of American Grey’s Web site. He is totally wrong for me, especially on a day when I’m so easily distracted. I need to focus on the here and now. But lately, there has been so much involved with the “here and now” that it is hard to do. My mind wanders. I’m tired but it’s a good tired. A rewarding sense of being tired after doing something worthwhile. So, I try to focus or refocus and nothing seems to work. It’s Friday, and I’m reminded of some far away place that I have visited and here I go again . . .  wandering through old photographs and memories . . . .

Then I reason: I need to post something for my Friday group to view and that excuse gives flight to my drifting mind. Until a Twitter reminder comes through telling me there is a baseball game this afternoon at 3 pm. “Back to work,” I tell myself.  Later, there will be time set aside to be with friends—good friends—who have continued with me over many rough seasons in this life. It should be the perfect end to a perfect week.

TFC Scoreboard for Miss Jo’s Mom! She wondered if I had a photo of it earlier in the week, and I do! (double smile for her)

I really don’t know the story behind these bricks that line the sidewalks of Savannah. I lived there for two years and walked on them often, but never considered how or why they were there. My guess would be that just like the thousands of smooth stones that line Factor’s Walk, they were once ballasts in the hull of large ships that made their way up the river and into the Port of Savannah. Or maybe something much simpler like: the city bought them from Craves Block Company in Birmingham, Alabama, to use in the construction of shady sidewalks that line the city’s streets and are boardered by aging live oak trees.