Blue Smoke

Up in the Great Smoky Mountains I read a plaque that said the Cherokees called the area “Shaconage,” which means “the place of blue smoke.” Scientists have said that the reason we see blue is because plants giving off gases interact with the gases in the air and create aerosols, which cause short rays of light at the blue end of the spectrum. There is a wonder in knowing, and the more I know the more I feel complete. When you stare at something huge and beautiful, it stirs the soul and makes the skin tingle, and for an instant we’re neither here nor there. And for that instant all of life seems manageable, all goals seem attainable, and all wounds wind themselves up and fly away, and we’re left with nothing but pure existence.

My wife and I were hesitant to make the trip to Gatlinburg at first, because we had already decided we weren’t going to drive up to Illinois to spend Thanksgiving with our family. The drive from Nashville to there is about 8 hours, but with our son Jackson it can usually stretch out to a lot longer than that. So when our friends Erin and Spencer invited us up to their cabin in Gatlinburg, which was a far shorter drive than Illinois, we at first said yes, then said no, then said yes, as we mulled over getting the horde of stuff that you need to travel with a 13 month old. At the end of the day we spent Thanksgiving at home and decided to drive to Gatlinburg the next day. And I’m glad we did. Sometimes I’ve found when you’re a parent, you’re usually exhausted at the end of the day and if an opportunity comes up all you want to do is sit down and chill out. But like many things in life, when you put in the work sometimes you get the treasure at the end.

Our friends Spencer and Erin are wonderful people on their own, and as a couple they accentuate their uniqueness. Spencer is one of a kind. He is eccentric, but in a warm inviting way once you get to know him, seemingly guarded but full of not your run of the mill opinions that I’m always curious to hear. Erin is equally unique, but in an outwardly different way than Spencer. She is kind and tender hearted, and has a fire that burns in her for the things she loves. Me and my wife enjoyed every second of being able to hang out with them, and watch our son Jackson crawl around and open and close cabinet doors a million times.

We spent a day in Gatlinburg, took a gondola up a mountainside, visited one of the coolest candy stores I’ve been to in awhile, and even got a taste of moonshine. Of course Jackson couldn’t taste any, even though the latter part of the day he kept reaching for all of the moonshine on the walls. He’s gonna be a wild kid. I wonder where he gets it from.

That night me and Spencer tried to make a fire with one match, but failed so we used a fire starter instead. I blamed it on the damp conditions. We sat around the fire and watched it burn, and I marveled at what happens when wood gets hot enough to create magical looking wisps of flame.

The next day we drove through The Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and looked out over the Cherokee’s blue smoke. I couldn’t help thinking about their lives, and how different they would have been from ours. The Cherokees would have had little to worry about in terms of what we worry about now. I’m sure they would have spent a lot of time just surviving, hunting and gathering food and making sure they had made the appropriate preparations for the coming winter. Sometimes I think that life would have been extremely rewarding. In this day and age are minds tend to get the better of us, and of course the reasons are plain to see. Even at our busiest, we have so much space in which to fret and worry, and let our thoughts run this way and that all the while holding on to that invisible rope that sticks up into the bluish clouds of our own convoluted minds. Wouldn’t it be easier to wake up underneath one of the most diverse canopies in the world, breath in the pines, and live? It would be harder in a lot of respects, sure, but would we notice as much?

These are the questions I was thinking when we made our trip to the mountains, and out of them came a feeling of deep gratitude. How cool is it that I live so close to one of the most diverse rainforests in the world? There are over a 100 species of trees in the Great Smokies, and a vast display of plant and animal life. I’m thankful. And above all, I’m thankful for my family. Life with a little one can be hard, and can stretch your patience and character like nothing else can. And it’s not always comfortable. In fact, a lot of the times it isn’t. But when I look out over the mountains I feel like I’m playing my part in the continuation of what we call life. I get the chance to raise my beautiful son with my beautiful wife, who is as strong and sturdy as those trees sticking up from the mountainside. I was glad they were there by my side, facing a vast landscape like many others have faced before me in many different contexts. I felt sturdy. I felt sure. I felt surrounded by wonder.