The mountains are calling, and I must go.”
-John Muir, Scottish naturalist and mountaineer, 1838-1914
Pensacola is home. Our chosen clan are here. We own a home here. We are happy here.
However, that does not mean that I-- an Appalachian-born woman--, does not miss Life in The Clouds. The Appalachians are part of my DNA-- a part that no amount of disgust at the sensibilities of Western Pennsylvania and eastern Ohio can shake.
I need to see higher elevations and do some hiking that requires boots and hiking sticks. Brian and I do a lot of local hiking near our home, and this is always good.
However, I am a highlander. As much as I love Life at Sea Level, I need doses of mountain life.
In addition to growing up in the ridge- and-valley portion of the Appalachian chain, my family took several summer vacation trips to western North Carolina-- mountains that are much higher {and more majestic} than where I grew up. Brian and I honeymooned in the mountains near Hendersonville, North Carolina and we've returned there since.
Lately my soul has been troubled, but I am not writing about that business. Someone I trust, love and respect pointed out to me that I need to " refill my cup". On occasion, returning to the mountains, even for a brief stay, refills my cup like nothing else.
Brian and I booked a three-day, four-night stay at a cute little VRBO cabin in the north Alabama mountains. This is a day's drive from Pensacola, and we can take our dog. A pet fee will apply, but we save money in the long run because the fee is what we would pay PER DAY for Harry's overnight boarding.
Alleluia!
In less than one month, I'll be, as Dad says in North Carolina " watching the mountains wake up" with my beloved in a private mountain cabin in the middle of nowhere.
Friends, we cannot put a price tag on experiences that " refill our cup".
Amen
Sarah Beth McCarren
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