Mt. Mitchell

This is the final part of the trip that Sandy, Ela, Pattu and I made on a lazy sunday in October. We had been to Linville Gorge and Crabtree Falls. On Ela's prodding, we then proceeded towards Mt. Mitchell. On the way, rounding a sharp corner, we came to an overlook that gave a perfect view of the distant peaks on Mt. Mitchell. And we knew we had to stop to take in this beautiful panorama.

Normally people venturing into the mountains would prefer something with a four wheel drive. Instead, we had picked a sports car. And we were not disappointed. Sandy's Mustang, our ride on the trip, covered the miles thundering down the narrow mountain road like the beast whose name it carried.

Moving ahead, as we took the turn for Mt. Mitchell State Park, we just stopped in our tracks. We were met with an unbelievably incredible view. Driving from the warmer fall colours, we were suddenly confronted with the stark whiteness of winter. The trees were displaying their winter ornaments, each leaf cased in snow, glimmering with the light spray, nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven.

There couldn't be anything in the world which can beat the beauty of a forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. Every spray, every blade of grass, every spire of reed, every intricacy of twig was clad with radiance.

The first snowfall of the year is a magical event. And we were very much a part of this magic. The excitement in all of us was evident. The car was parked by the curbside below a snow laden tree and we were out without making any conscious decisions.

There's an old saying, "Winter either bites with its teeth or lashes with its tail". I won't disagree. Before starting on the trip, we had anticipated the winter days to stay away for a few more days and had not dressed as snugly as we would have liked. And now we were feeling the cold acutely. It wasn't long before our fingers went numb making it difficult to take any pictures. So we again moved on towards the State Park which was our final destination before starting back on the homeward journey.

As Hal Borland says, "To see a hillside white with dogwood bloom is to know a particular ecstasy of beauty, but to walk the gray winter woods and find the buds which will resurrect that beauty in another May is to partake of continuity."

My thoughts have been echoed by Dorothy Wordsworth when she says, "I've been a dweller on the plains, have sighed when summer days were gone; No more I'll sigh; for winter here hath gladsome gardens of his own.

The chill air and wintry winds had a song of their own. It seemed like quite a cheerful song as our ear grew more familiar with it. We spent some time walking around enjoying the pristine beauty.

In the words of Adrienne Ivey, "Everything is equal in the snow: all trees, all lawns, all rooftops. Everything is white, white, white, as far as you can see. Covered by snow, the well-kept and neglected lawns look the same. Everything looks clean and fresh and unmarred by time or use. Snow, like the silent death it counterfeits, is a great leveler."

The experience was heavenly. The peak of the mountain was almost completely hidden behind a white blanket, the falling snow. We felt closer to paradise. And terribly cold. Oh how cold!!

Reminded me of a poem by Ogden Nash.

Winter is the king of showmen
Turning tree stumps into snowmen.
Smooth and clean and frosty white
The world looks good enough to bite.
That's the season to be young
Catching snowflakes on your tongue.

In solitude, even the snow is lonely. Winter has arrived. A long wait lies ahead until the first robin appears or the quietest bud sprouts out of the ground.

Winter comes with its own charm. And beauty. On a sunless day, the greys merge to form a somber and peaceful landscape. A silhouette of a leafless tree may be missing a leafy abundance. But it is still beautiful!!