The Soul of the Smoky Mountains

The first ray of sunlight was falling on my face through the cracks of the window. I frowned, and tried to open my eyes, but could only do it partially since the light dazzled me. The busy noises of birds and cool breeze made me realize that I was in a log cabin in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina.

The log cabin was completely isolated, and it felt like I was the only one around and was stranded in this natural territory. I was far off from the usual tourist spots in and around Lake Wylie, Lake Champlain and popular Appalachian trails.

I sat up, and looked around. A tiny bird was sitting at the small table beside the window, and moving its head curiously, observing me. It could be a ‘Carolina Wren’, though I was not sure. I whistled to get its attention, but it flew off the window.

I set off quickly after eating a sandwich and putting some of them in the bag and kept a bottle of water too. The summer in NC was humid, and my wandering in these mountains was likely to get me exhausted. The jungle was getting thicker as I progressed. The plants and trees looked more unique and I could name only a few of them.

On the way I noticed the rocks there looked different from one another. I could identify the volcanic rocks since the mountain ranges in India have similar rocks all around, but could not figure out the other type of rocks. May be those were sedimentary rocks or they are in a deformed state due to various climatic changes for million years.

So far I only noticed quite a few birds including some woodpeckers, some gray squirrels and a gray fox. I walked farther and some sparkling white Mountain Laurels caught my eyes. But the flowers that made me joyous were some Golden Glow flowers. They are similar to sunflowers; the only difference is Golden Glow has pretty long petals.

Now I was standing in front of a rolling hill, which seemed to be the place I could make peace with myself in the lap of this wild nature. I sat there and rested my back against a rock. Time passed by with no track. It was getting breezy. The blue sky above had a few dark patches of cloud now. The famous tropical rain was impending. But I did not even think to move. My sojourn to this secluded mountain was almost over. Slowly, I headed back towards my log cabin. The cold gust of wind whispered something into my ears, like a melancholic song. It was resonating in the air of the mountains and the forests. I will be back again!