Goshen Pass, VA

May 1
Vivid spring green of new foliage against darker evergreens in the hills. . . . Maury River – fast moving water tumbling over boulders, rushing to the next bend in the river. Trees budding, fuschia and white. Fields furiously yellow with wildflowers. Neat white wood homes basking in their wide expanse of lawn. Pastoral landscapes, dotted with black, brown and black-and-white cows. A surplus of beauty.
The forest is luminous with new growth – every shade of green. But here and there the landscape is dappled with white – dogwoods in spring bloom, brilliant with the radiance of the sun. . .

We are going to Natural Bridge, one of the 7 wonders of the world – mainly because I want to see the Toy Museum, with toys from the 1900s through 1960s. We drive 15 miles, thinking we will drive over or through the natural bridge and pay some nominal admission fee for the Toy Museum. We discover there’s a $10 per person admission fee to see the Bridge, $8 for the toy museum – and the capper – there’s a Wax Museum affiliated with the Natural Bridge. Any attraction or place that has a Wax Museum falls into the “Collossal Cave” category – one of those places that resorts to multiple garishly-colored billboards on the highway seeking to catch the attention of the whining kids torturing their weary parents in their minivan 180 miles into their 452 mile road trip. Our motto: if it has a wax museum, drive right on by. After going into the “Natural Bridge Gift Shop, Museum and Ticket Office” and discovering the only way to learn the ticket prices is to stand in line – there are no admission prices posted anywhere! – and doing just that – Steve and I look at each other and agree to leave. We do so without regret.

Tuesday, May 3
Shenandoah National Park
The geologic history of the Appalachian Mountains goes back more than a billion years. The weathered homes of early Appalachian residents on Route 33 are slightly less old. On Skyline Drive in Shenandoah Park, the trees still appear leafless, their bare branches and limbs outlined like a network of veins and capillaries reaching up to blue sky. But up close, green leaves and buds waiting to unfurl when the weather warms up prove that spring is here too. But it is cold today – more like March than May. The woods still look like winter, save the occasional tree in early bloom, startling amid the stark landscape around it.
Walking through woods, listening to the sounds: birds warble, chirp and twitter, waterfall rushing in the background, the tinkling trickle of a stream near the path, rustle of wind through trees, a leaf falling. And the smell – woodsy, loamy rich fragrance of earth, bark, water, decaying leaves and humus.
We spot deer on the road, casually munching on grass. More exciting, deer on the trail deep in the forest as we hike. They stop eating when they hear our footsteps, freeze. We stop, letting them know we mean no harm, then move forward quietly a few steps, stop, move again. The deer are shy and suspicious; they let us advance, but not too close.
We hike up a long mountain trail and reach the rocky summit. It is quiet and peaceful; we look out over the landscape below, enjoying the stillness and splendor of nature. But the serenity is disturbed by a group of four hikers who arrive a few moments later, loudly discussing the “Fourteeners” (summits of 14,000 feet or more) they have climbed, vying with one another for attention like a group of 5 year olds. Their raucous chatter ruins the tranquility; after a few moments, we leave.