Green Canopy, Red Hawk

 

2026 - 'Pat Ryan' Native Azalea 

Spring Greetings, Friend, 

I don't have a lot to write about. There's only so much one can say about driving, and parking, and paying for gas and lunch, etc. It's the last two weeks of the semester, and I'm swamped. Mostly, I just stare off into the middle distance and try not to think about all the things I have to get done/get started on. I'm trying to stay present, or at least enjoy my last moments in Athens and on campus as a student. Unfortunately, outside just looks so pretty these days, I have a hard time focusing.

Library Window

Yesterday, I was driving to Elijay, up to the mountains to go sit on a back porch (thanks Becca and Ben) and read about Medieval sumptuary laws. It's always this time of year when I'm reminded why exactly I love Georgia so much. The green lushness of it all, sunsets behind soft mountains, and little apple and boiled peanut stands freckled along the roadside. There's nothing like following a low-lying Appalachian river ambling its way through the valleys. 

I was sitting on the front porch with Dad the other day, we'd just gotten done with a little weeding (he'd done most of it), and now Dad was talking to his dad on the phone (Pappy). We both had our heads tilted up to the sky, enjoying the open field in front of us, the view of the trees against the sky. I couldn't believe just how vibrantly blue the sky was against the fresh green trees. 

Towards the end of the summer, like in September, all the leaves look sun-crisped and tired, but right now they're a perfect dust yellow-green.

Did you know new leaves could be hairy? 

Green Canopy

As I was saying, we were passively watching the sky, and then a big shadow passed in front of us as a red-tailed hawk started spinning in the sky above. Dad pointed, excited, and I nodded in acknowledgment. I couldn't help but remember that one time when I was younger, when Dad brought us out to the chicken coop (which once-upon-a-time doubled as our playhouse, but was later converted for the brood), saying he had a surprise. He opened the door, and there perched was the biggest hawk I'd ever seen. Dad found it lying on the dam, its wing was broken, and it was panting. Later, he took it to a wildlife rehabilitator he knew. I don't think it survived, but its majesty occasionally circles back around in my memory. 

It's interesting the things you notice when you're driving. Hawks perched on powerlines over cow fields, decapitated silos, abandoned railroad crossings stretching out to nowhere, roads lined with crooked crosses. 

I'm looking forward to the honeysuckle blooming and summer nights spent drifting around a sun-warmed pool. Owls hooting in the pine trees. Turtles sunbathing. Evening thunderstorms (we need some of those right about now). It's a pretty nice place to be, here, and all. 

Blackberry blossoms

Hairy Beech Tree Leaves

I'll leave you with a few songs. 

Cranekiss - Tamaryn 

Les Fleurs - Minnie Riperton

Fall In Love - Phantogram 

Wheels - Squirl Flower, Babehoven, Billie Marten 

Make sure to stop and smell the honeysuckle, 

Mary W.