Oh, come on, the news is grim, so let’s leave it all behind and go for a walk in the Tennessee countryside.
I tend to walk early in the morning, when there’s still a breeze.
The moss is so much better than the mushrooms this year. I have not seen a single mushroom. The frog pond is low, too.
Not far from my cottage is a ruin of a stone house. There are people around who could tell me the story of this place, but I don’t really want to know.
I’d rather imagine all kinds of stories about this place.
Is this a little stage? A tomb for a leprechaun? The product of a stonemason with terrible aim?
The lichens are hanging in there. Lichens know how to hunker down.
This is on the Cumberland Plateau, elevation 1,920 feet. Not a mountain, really. But enough to make life five degrees cooler than Nashville. I’ve been taking this walk for more than ten years now, a familiar route but never the same twice.
What’s your favorite ramble?
PS Thanks for all the ideas about the identity of the fweeoo fweeoo bird is who’s making my every morning an early one. It’s not a Phoebe, Veery, Red-eyed Verio, or Eastern Wood Peewee. I’ll try to catch it in a video so you can play it at 4:49 am every morning. OY.
The website All About Birds is so very excellent. Definitely poke around in there.