Just spent the weekend in the mountains of North Carolina… I had driven up straight from Atlanta after my meeting had ended and Ryan drove up with friends from the Island. I have to admit, packing for a weekend while it’s 100 degrees outside, I packed nothing but shorts and t-shirts… when I got to the cabin, I realized I had nothing warm enough to wear. What a concept. Here I was in July wishing I had packed flannel… It was beautiful though… cool in the evenings… and dry and comfortable during the day. It made me question why I live in the heat and humidity of South Georgia… and then I drive home, cross the many bridges of the Torras Causeway and I remember… oh well.

One thing that occurred to me while at the cabin was the noise at night. There isn’t any. It is completely silent. Right now, at home, the cicadas, frogs and other insects are almost deafening… at the cabin, there wasn’t a sound. You see, this is my first time at the cabin in the dead of summer. We usually go up for the leaves in October and spend Christmas there… both times of the year where I suppose the noises of insects don’t really register… but as we sat on the porch overlooking the valley towards Black Mountain and enjoyed the cool breeze, there wasn’t a sound to be heard… except a couple of cats fighting. Very rarely do we get to experience that, the noiselessness… not the cats, cats fighting are sort of ubiquitous.

Well, the traffic circle still continues to confound me… perhaps when it’s all complete, I will catch a glimpse of the genius behind the plan. Until then, I believe I will continue to shake my head in disbelief whenever I circumnavigate my way around this ‘circle’.

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