SPRING NIGHTS IN THE BLUE RIDGE
By Mike Faulk

Two-thirds of the way through spring with everything now green and recovering from the mid-April snows and freeze, I'm once again reminded of one of the reasons I love the mountains - cool nights. With the thermometer dipping into the high thirties over night, a fire becomes a necessity. Not just a mood fire, but a warming fire, takes the edge off what would otherwise be a cold night spent snuggled tightly underneath layers of covers.

Alas, fires require firewood. With sweat dripping from brow, a cool down on the front porch was easily accomplished after busting enough box elder and poplar to warm the old cabin for an overnight stay. Then inside it was for me to enjoy the glow of that mesmerizing mood/warming fire.




The smell of wood smoke from the dying embers gave way in the morn to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. These are but two of the smells that tell me I'm alive, I'm free, and I'm in east Tennessee.

See also "The Smell of the Hunt".