A Few More "Smoky" Pictures...

Taking up where I left off in the last post,

This one looks like there might be a fire in the next draw.

And this one looks like the whole valley floor is burning.

These two illustrate an interesting feature of an early morning drive. When a draw "fills up" (with clouds, or fog, or even smoke I suppose) and it's still driven by a stiff breeze, it shoots up the slope, crosses the road in front of you, slips through a saddle in the ridge above and dives into the next valley. You can't get the full effect in these still shots, because it's the motion that is so arresting. But use your imagination.

The same thing's going on here too, but the relatively minor incident was interrupted by the sun's climb. Clearing an adjacent ridge line, the full effect of the sun was enhanced rather than diminished by the sunlight's diffusion by the clouds. "Awesome" applies here. My first thought on seeing this was the description in the Bible of the Transfiguration.

One last Blue Ridge Parkway comment (for now): I've noticed in my last few trips east that some of the overlooks on this most wonderful of roads are now blocked, or nearly so, by trees immediately below the turnout. The panorama effect suffers and "windows" must suffice. Travelers appreciate the trees on the Parkway so much, the notion that someone should "cut some of these trees back" often causes a great deal of distress as the idea borders on sacrilege. But, on the other hand. . .

Why They Call Them The Smokies. . .

Several of the pictures I re-sized last week provided excellent examples of the reason for the name Smoky Mountains. I think it's fairly obvious - they look like they're smoking.

Explanations on the internet left me shaking my head, and the pictures used to illustrate the phenomenon were exceedingly poor - typically just low, scudding clouds following a rain.

It might help to realize the Smokies don't always look like they're smoking. If you spend enough time in the mountains, however, you'll recognize the phenomenon when you see it.

Each of these pictures was taken near the southern end of the Blue Ridge Parkway. For years, I'd get to the mountains at mid-day or later after drives of whatever distance. Then I started leaving home in the wee hours to arrive in the Andrews Valley or at Nantahala Gorge or Cherokee or somewhere else just at sunrise.

That opened my eyes and set the tone for a day of photography. I should have remembered the glory of early morning in the Smokies from my first trips through the mountains on Trailways buses in the early 1960's.

The additional pleasure of light to non-existent early morning traffic on the Parkway or even the regular highways of western North Carolina can't be over-emphasized.

Reflections on the Oconaluftee

I mentioned in the last post that, though the 2004 fall color may not have been spectacular, it still merited some attention. My direct shots of the area, (e.g., the first picture below) showed some sign of autumn and certainly suggested a pleasant day in the mountains, but you could hardly tout the splendor of the season to someone who was familiar with "good years" for color.

But when you wander over to the bank of the river and, with your senses alert, your attention settles on smaller details of your immediate environment and you find the river has somehow captured most of the color you'd been looking for, or at least concentrated what had seemed to be the meager hues and tints of the October forest in question.

'Tis true, the blues in these pictures might have been just as blue in late August as they were in mid October, but we're looking for color here and you sometimes have to take it where you can get it.

Okay, now the blue's out and we've more yellow and some admittedly anemic red. But the color still surprises you and you find yourself mesmerized by the combination of the reflected color and the inherent texture of the water's surface.

Now the blue's back and the texture is different enough that the transparent nature of the water adds another dimension and you can study the river bottom as well as the surface.

The point of view has shifted again and the bottom's hidden once more. The surface texture is dominant but you can begin to discern that the previously abstract color pattern once again hints at the reflected trees on the far bank.

One more to suggest that maybe none of the foregoing makes any difference. We've got color and texture, the river reflecting October skies and hints of trees, and an undeniably inviting river, encouraging you to kick off your shoes and cool your "dogs". What more could you ask for?