Monday, August 23, 2004


When I was driving back from Asheville Saturday I came to a stretch on I-26 where all of a sudden you go from rural scenery to something out of Davey Crockett. There is a huge gorge you span on the highway and all you can see is trees and the shapes of the mountains supporting those trees. Gouging it's way ever downward into the gorge is a river. You can't see it but you can tell by the pattern of the trees and the definite break them that there is a river down there. If it's cool out you can probably smell it and feel it, too.

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