There are a few reasons I enjoy hiking in the winter. It’s quieter, less people on the trails, and there are no bugs to bother me. But the biggest reason I enjoy hiking in the winter is I get to see views that would normally be obscured by greenery.
For the past three winters, a committee of vultures has been gathering in the trees behind my house. They arrive early each morning, quietly huddling in a grove of pine trees bordering the backyard. They stare out silently, occasionally jostling on the branches, and then leave after about an hour. The cycle repeats again each evening. There are about 30-40 birds in the group, although once they land on the trees, they are barely perceptible. Why they choose to gather in this spot twice a day has been a mystery. They don’t seem to be searching for food or being territorial, but the daily gatherings are a ritual nonetheless.
Museums are nice, but beautiful art can be found in many surprising places. I spotted this painting at an antique mall. This title is Black Ice (I wish I had remembered to take down the artist’s name!)
There is always extra pressure from my day job at the end of the year to hit certain goals, and at times it can feel exhausting. When it starts to feel overwhelming, I make a big warm drink (green tea latte today) and take a few minutes to myself before getting back to it. It’s been a huge drain on my creativity and desire to write. I’ve given up trying to fight that I have so many ideas and no energy to execute most of them. Lucky I am looking forward to a long holiday break to rest and get back into writing again.
The dining room and kitchen at the Whaley House in San Diego, known as the most haunted house in America. Set on the original site of the Old Town gallows, it is the oldest brick structure in Southern California.
I’m a big advocate for visiting parks off season, and Carolina Beach State Park is a perfect example of why. It’s full of evergreen trees that give the park a lush look all year round, there are carnivorous plants that are active until late November, and some of the trails terminate on the banks of the Cape Fear river.
Dense fog during a morning drive through the Smoky Mountains. It’s hard to believe there is a Streep drop an an entire mountain range just beyond the edge of the road.
I’d like to die listening to a piece of music. I imagine this as so easy, so natural, but naturally it’s quite impossible. Notes stab too softly. The wounds they leave behind may smart, but they don’t fester. Melancholy and pain trickle out instead of blood. When the notes cease, all is peaceful within me again. Robert Walser, Masquerade and Other Stories
The view while waiting for entry at a local haunted house.
View of the Great Smokey Mountains from the Blue Ridge Parkway. Stretching along the Tennessee/North Carolina border, “The Smokies” were given their name by the Cherokee, because of the natural fog that hangs over the mountain range. The Blue Ridge Parkway was constructed during President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s administration, and was designed to connect Shenandoah National Park to Great Smoky Mountains National Park via a roadway. It is the most visited part of the National Park system.
Everyday Strange 