Windswept

For three hours, the wind scoured my skin, abraded my eyeballs, pushed, shoved and bullied me. But then, what did I expect on the Parkway in March. But was it worth it? Depends on your yardstick.

I’d offered to try to get some pictures for the editor of Friends of the Blue Ridge Parkway High Vistas newsletter. The cover article in the upcoming issue will be on the sorry financial plight of the national parks, the Parkway in particular, of course. Did I have any pictures of picnic grounds, visitors centers and such in my archives? she asked, and the answer was no.

But this seemed like a good excuse to have the beautiful road pretty much all to myself. Did I get what she needed? I’m not at all certain. This weekend, maybe I’ll show you one or two I think might be useful for her purpose. Did I have a good time on my little solo “assignment” before meeting in town at 6 at Jeannie Oneal’s to talk about the Floyd Writers Room at the new motel? You bet!

This image doesn’t do justice to the size of the trees, their windswept austerity, or the steepness of the slope where they grow across from the Rocky Knob campground (which, by the way, remains severely cluttered with ice-storm damage–branches everywhere–a real bonanza for the first campfire builders!)