Stop and Look

When I was younger I loved to travel. The farther away I could get the better. My favorite trips where to Great Britain and the accompanying lands, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, the land of my forefathers. Every winter I would try to go out West to visit my brother in Salt Lake City at the base of the Wasatch Mountain Range of the Rockies. I am a granny skier, means that I like to ski, but slowly. And the skiing in Park City was absolutely amazing. Not very many people and gorgeous slopes. I would also weasel my way into the avalanche patrol group to see if I could watch them work their dogs.

Then I bought my little slice of heaven here in Virginia and I only leave it under extreme duress.I love Virginia and all her variations. Our mountains are not as grandiose as the Rockies, but they are breath taking in a quiet slowly overwhelming way.

Fridley's Gap, Massanutten Mountain

In my travels around the state on the various searches I get called to, I get to see many parts that most of us don’t even think about. Let alone know about. From the Dismal Swamp to the Blue Ridge to the western most boundary, the Allegheny Mountains and everything in between. I am however, not a flatlander. I need to see what might be behind the next curve on the backcountry road, what the next little valley may be hiding.

We tend to forget that in our own backyard, there are scenes of beauty that we don’t need to travel thousands of miles to experience. That point was driven home to me when I was heading home from a search at the Homestead, in Hot Springs Va. I stopped at the top the mountain ridge that separated Calf Pasture River valley from the James River and got out to look around. The day was clear, bright and the scene breathtaking I felt I could see for miles.

In the Capital Reef area of Utah, there is an observation point that says you can see for 90 miles in every direction. Where I got out after my search, at the top of the mountain ridge, I don’t think I could see for 90 miles but I could see probably 10 miles before the mountains closed in.

Even around my small parcel of land the quiet beauty sneaks up on you. A walk in the first light of a summer morning, the crunch and creak of the newly fallen snow under your boot and the delicate lacey patterns of the dormant trees in snow above your head. And then in the fall, the surprise of a flock of turkeys strutting across the pasture or a doe and this year’s fawn grazing beside the horses.

Don't forget your backyard.  Stop, and look at it through the eyes of someone who's never seen it before.  You'll be surprised.