Saturday, March 2, Kellie and I drove nearly to the end of Push Mtn. Road (from the Norfork side) to the Moccasin Spring trailhead, which is on the left side of the road going south. Moccasin Spring (pictured above) is 1.15 miles down the trail. When I say "down," I mean down. The walk is entirely downhill, so guess what that means as you walk back to the trailhead? Yes! It is all uphill, which kind of reminds me of last summer in Scotland. Anyhow, a couple of the grades are long and steep with no switchbacks. The calf and butt muscles get a good work out on this hike.
Below is a picture of the spring source. It is hard to see much into the cave because it is so dark. I couldn't get it to lighten up.
The picture below is taken standing at the Moccasin Spring looking downstream. The one after it is a pool beneath the cliff about 100 feet below the spring.
You didn't think that I was going to forget about a poem, did you? This poem is about something that I haven't heard in a while--falling rain. The idea for the poem came because the forecast called for rain, and I was hoping that we might get some. Our yard and flower beds are very dry as I discovered the other day moving some iris bulbs. I was hoping that the poem might convince some rain to fall. It didn't work. ENJOY the poem anyway!
Falling Rain
Listen to the shush up on the roof,
The rhythmic pecking on the window pane,
The foamy hissing of the swollen stream.
All are but guises of the falling rain.
Sometimes, it sounds just like the west wind’s sigh.
Sometimes, it beats in wild unmeasured notes.
I’ve heard it pluck, like fingers on a lyre,
The stretched white canvases of sailing boats.
It falls as soft as moonbeams through stained glass
Or solid as an organ’s breathy mirth.
The falling rain can seem like anything,
Yet it compares with nothing else on Earth.
Exactly 1/2 mile below Moccasin Spring is a waterslide and pool of water. The next three pictures are of the pool, the waterslide, and the water chute above the waterslide.
Besides Moccasin Spring itself and this scenic waterslide and pool, the hike was pretty much like walking through the woods. I took a few other pictures, but they are not worth sharing.
Two things of note though, Kellie and I walked past the waterslide and pool another half mile, so we hiked at total of 2.25 miles one way or, in other words, about halfway to Barkshed. The entire trek to the halfway mark was downhill. The entire walk out was uphill. 2.25 miles of uphill! On the way up, we saw two interesting things. First, this rock...
Yes, it is just a bluff rock like a million other rocks in bluffs along this trail except that where it was there were no other rocks or a bluff. The slope above was a gently sloping, leaf covered hillside. This rock was a bluff unto itself. A one-rock bluff! It was only about waist high. I may write a poem about this lonely one-rock, waist-high bluff some day.
I am not sure how well you can see it, but I captured a picture of one of four turkey hens that Kellie and I walked up on in the woods. They did not seem to be shy at all. They never even seemed to acknowledge that we were there. However, getting a picture of them in the shadows of the trees was nearly impossible. You couldn't see them on the camera screen unless they were moving. This is the best one I got of a dozen pictures or so.
Well, I was going to offer another poem, but I am going to have to save it. I only have one left for the Poem-A-Week challenge, and who knows if I will have time to write a poem this week? I hope you have enjoyed this blog.
Don't forget to email me your comments, requests, suggestions, whatever at mbt1966@yahoo.com.
Oh! and here is a picture of a living tree with a hole all the way through it. So, I guess that I had three more things.
I doubt that I will ever write a poem about a tree hole--though it does seem like an idea that lends itself to light, comedic verse.