It has been awhile since I have either had the ability or the inclination to write. I have been in the mountains for some time and presently I do not have internet access there…or television…or newspapers. Once I move there permanently I will have those things but in the transitional period I do not.
I wish I could make you feel the emotions I feel when in the mountains. Not only after I get there but simply on the drive. The contrast between the metropolis of Atlanta and the pastures and hills of the Blue Ridge mountains is a tremendous change in only thirty minutes.
The first thing you notice is the change of the air. I like to ride with my windows down so I can not only feel the wind but in the mountains I can taste the air. It is a sweet taste to me. Not to say that you can’t taste the air in cities, you most certainly can, it just isn’t as palatable.
I didn’t realize what a detrimental effect living in this house where both of my parents died in my arms has had on my psyche until I approached the mountains. I realize now I have spent most of my time there literally looking down. I could not fill my lungs up with air no matter how bad I wanted to.
Yet as I was approaching Jasper Georgia my eyes caught the bottom of the mountains. It was like looking at the feet of Jesus. I had to look up. As I did my head lifted and my lips parted and I could feel my entire BODY smiling! Muscles relaxed as my lungs filled with the sweet mountain air like a man who has been underwater to long. The different hues of blue and violet that the mountains get their name for rolled on and on like the swells of a serpents back in the sea.
I see no end to the work that has to be done here in Macon. It is simply overwhelming to me. But I have made a vow to myself that this will be my last trip to this house. I will finish what has to be done here once and for all and will return to the mountains and claim them as my home…soon.