Plaasabilities

"Come" West Prong Little Pigeon River, Sugarlands.  Great Smoky Mountains National Park © 2014 Kristina Plaas, All Rights Reserved On a sunny winter afternoon, I wandered where a path followed The river, cold and clear, As it descended from sugared mountains Towards the tourist-trap filled town. Some come seeking 'shine and souvenirs in crowded shops and clogged streets. I come seeking solace and solitude among the towering trees and water crashing over rounded rocks. Thirsty pilgrims journeying To the promised land. While promises of dubious worth are fast fleeting, The river remains steadfast -- Flowing through flood or snow Or drought of fall. Eternal water for the soul. And I come. I have been looking though my photos files for the year and selecting those that speak to me most for a year-in-review feature on my Facebook page. The problem is I'm finding more unedited images that i now have the skills to refine so I...

Ramsey Prong, Greenbrier Great Smoky Mountains National Park © 2014 Kristina Plaas, All Rights Reserved I got home from a late church meeting tonight feeling very tired and sort of brain-dead. I remembered I had not yet written my daily gratitude posts but, in the moment, couldn't think of anything to acknowledge feeling grateful for. It's not that I'm not grateful for lots of stuff, I am, but sometimes I'm just too tired to think. I reflected back on the evening and could only seem to think about how stressed I was over the music and everything I needed to get done. In the middle of the meeting I had to give myself permission to relax and breathe. I took such a deep breath I'm sure I disturbed my friends in the surrounding pews. Seriously. Part way through the talks there was a piano solo by Lynette James of the YSA Branch. I had asked Lynette to play this specific number, her own arrangement of Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing , because I had heard her pla...

Middlin' Middle Prong Little River, Tremont Great Smoky Mountains National Park © 2014 Kristina Plaas, All Rights Reserved Nothing Gold Can Stay Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. Robert Frost, 1923 As a nature lover and photographer I eagerly await the first hints of buds emerging from the trees in early spring. I adore the bright, cheery green trees in the Smokies in April. That green evolves to a deep, velvety hue as summer progresses then, before you know it, hints of gold show up in early September. It's just a tease, of course, as the richest red and golds won't show up until late October. It's futile to wish those rich hues would remain. Fall always has it's way as wind, rain, and snow turn the golds to brown and down, down, down they come. Gone. The gold is gone. The leaves ar...