Two campers light a fire using a propane backpack cook stove.
Light rain trickles from the sky. Drops touch toes, hiking books, stone, and extinguish fire.
Prior to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, the same men hiked 15 miles up a mountain to an inn. They also carried dinner they wanted the inn cooking staff to prep and serve that night. No luxury accommodations. No food provided except for what they brought.
Just weary feet, raw meat, and picture perfect proof that you hiked to the top of the peak.
The men, like many hikers, went on an adventure for a few days or one. The weekend became more than a short excursion to the Blue Ridge Parkway and Great Smokey Mountains.
Do you know the part in the movie when the music plays faster?
The drum sounds like a heartbeat.
The actor is about to make a life-changing decision.
Earlier in the day, the phone blared as John and I drove past Mount Pisgah. He pulled over. Lawn mowers made noise in the background. The woman on the phone offered me a job.
Not just any job, but one I’d hoped for. The idea of a job had become like a fantasy. In the past two years, I have sat through many interviews. I did not receive one primarily because the place of work was one where no one had a child.
As I looked past peaks, a future lay ahead of me; one I had sought through struggle and multiple freelance jobs. I would become a teacher assistant when I returned from vacation.
No one wants to think about work when they are surrounded by mist, and lime, garden, and ever green colors.
At that moment, my husband and I continued through the mountains with hope for what would come.
After thought: Where have I been?
If you have noticed my usual bi-weekly posts have gone down to one, do not worry. They will return to two this week. One week of road trippin’ and two weeks of job training have taken away time from writing and reading.
As always, thank you for reading.
Words and Photos by Rebecca T. Dickinson