Autumn is the dream time up here in the Blue Ridge. Summer’s heat is gone and cool nights promote deep sleep. Dreams come vibrant and memorable as your mind switches gears from the summer frenzy to get crops in and survive the day’s heat.
When the fog rolls in to our valley, it rolls in like the Ocean. In the early morning, just as the sun begins to rise, the light colored fog billows and all that is visible are the bones of the ridges.
Mountain tops and treetops loom above the sea of fog. I could just as well be at the edge of the Pacific as sitting on the porch drinking coffee.
Over my right shoulder are two morning stars: Saturn and Mercury.
Unlike the Pacific shore, there is no sound of waves crashing. There are only the muted sounds of birds waking and the occasional mooing of a cow.