This must be the place: Never take those mountains for granted

Standing in the midst of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, one can’t help but feel refreshed, a return to the core of your inner being amid the cosmos. And that sentiment is something felt in any of the innumerable national parks dotting our nation.

This must be the place: Never forget what you made, what made you

It seems like a race against time.

As a longtime arts and entertainment editor, I find myself in the backwoods and along the backroads of Western North Carolina, always in search of a story. Sometimes the subjects are folks I come across over a cold beer at a local watering hole. Sometimes they’re a random name and address with a short description of what they do sent to me via physical or electronic mail. On many occasions, I’ll be simply driving and something or someone catches my eye in the distance. 

This must be the place: Head for the whirling sands of your soul

Standing atop an Outer Banks fishing trawler, I gazed across the high desert of northwestern Nevada.

This must be the place: ‘Welcome to TRL, I’m Carson Daly…’

“How did you get into all this?”

Roads that we abandon, and others that we take

A slight breeze awoke me from my slumber this past Saturday morning. Swaying in the hammock, I looked upward while the first sunshine of the day sprinkled through the branches all tangled high above. 

This must be the place: Every soul has a story, every story has a face

You can’t help but smile.

Watching old clips of “On The Road” with Charles Kuralt, you find yourself in a headspace of familiarity. Not so much nostalgia as it is a trip down memory lane, when folks actually looked forward to watching the news, or at least those “CBS News Sunday Morning” episodes where Kuralt was as much a part of an enjoyable breakfast as bacon, eggs and a strong cup of coffee.

This must be the place: I know I'll see you again in the long run

Somewhere around central South Carolina my mind began to drift. 

This must be the place: ‘And live the way I said I would, but somehow never did…’

As I awoke in my hammock, I could see the branches and leaves swaying above, sprinkling small bits of the early morning light down upon me. For a moment, I didn’t know if I was still dreaming. Heck, for two moments, I didn’t remember where I was. But, it soon dawned on me, I was back at Suwannee, this time for the “Spring Reunion.”

This must be the place: There’s a reason you should care, seriously

Sitting in a chair on a front lawn late Sunday afternoon, the sun had already disappeared behind the mountains, a crisp air settling into the impending night. Just about a block down the hill from Main Street in Waynesville, a handful of folks gathered in front of the Twin Maples Farmhouse for an impromptu live performance. 

‘Let the freaks take back the night…’

The further you meander down the road of life, the more you come to realize just how haphazardly bumpy and ever-rolling the trek actually is — and remains so — when push comes to shove.

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