Summer in Connestee Falls. 2023, by Lorraine Miller
Well, here we are almost at the end of June. The days fly by in happy profusion. When you are content in your world, the days, weeks, months, and years pass so quickly. You are astounded when you look at the calendar (or you have to write a check), to see how late it is getting to be in your life.
Remember when you were a little tyke and it seemed forever from Thanksgiving to Christmas? Now, as I am messing around in my 80's, I wonder where all the years went by. They just slipped by! So many of them - can it be true that I am 84 years old? I don't feel like 84.
The other day I was musing: if I had my life to live over again, what would I do differently? And I came to the conclusion that I would probably do it all the same way again. Because, after all I am me!
What I regret the most is that I don't have the strength or the energy that I used to have. Aggravating, but there it is - and it cannot be changed.
Connestee Falls still sings its compelling song to me as I revel in its beauty. I never lived in a forested mountain area before in my life and I thoroughly love it. I never tire of admiring the majestic mountains.
Today the furthermost layers of mountains had a mysterious cloak of mist that hung on their shoulders: soft and subdued, and in the distance. The nearer mountains were rife with verdant greenery; so healthy looking and full of a sprintime of rain that replenished their innards.
The ferns have thrived in that rain-forest environment; springing to life under all the trees and cloaking the banks. They make a lacey, delicate background as they anchor the trees that tower above them to the fertile gound below.
I never cease to be amazed that with all these trees and rain there are so few mosquitos! Very seldom do I see a fly. Strange! But I am not complaining.
Today as I took the puppy-dog out for a walk, we saw two deer standing at the top of our hill. It was a gawking party; with us standing very still watching and them doing the same thing as they gave us the once-over.
I know that some of my neighbors complain about the deer eating their flowers. I can understand how frustraing that must be to them; but I don't mind one bit if they eat some of mine. Just to have a chance to scrutinize them up close, is worth a Hosta or two to me. I know that deer are a disaster if you happen to hit one with your car; but I don't think there is much danger of that on our Connestee roads. because they don't leap or run...they just stand there bemused, looking at us.
Some of my neighbors have reported that they saw a bear. One lady said a big black bear was on her deck of her house! Now, that would cause me some concern, I'll admit. But I don't think there are many bears around here. I know that, should I see one, I will not bother him one bit! I will just let him lumber along his way without any interference from me.
The Whippet puppy dog, L'Esprit of Connestee Falls, is almost eight months old now and is a thing of beauty; albeit a little rascal. But he is such a lovable rascal that he fills our days with wonder and amazement. Just to see him run and gallop and jump never ceases to amaze me. (How, I wish I were agile enough to do that!). By the way, he has perfect control of his movements, he can stop on a dime or skillfully maneuver his way around obstacles. And, daily, he is enlarging his vocabulary of words he understands, and finding ways to make us comprehend his needs.
Looking at the national weather reports I saw reports of temperatures in the high 90's and even 100's in other parts of the country; many of them being to the far noth of us. We have had nothing like that. The delightful part to me is how cool it gets at night. Reminds me of when we were on the island in the St. Clair Flats. Evening-time always brought cool breezes, replete with the sweet smell of the Channels and the waves lapping at the shore singing their lullabys. Once you have savored the unforgettable aroma of the river, you never forget it.
I was fortunate during my young days to have had the delightful experience of spending my summers on McDonald's Island in the St. Clair Flats of Michigan. And, now, during the latter years of my life, I have found that same peace and joy in this God-blessed Appalachian country of Western North Carolina. (I put in 59-1/2 years of time spent in the working world, in between, but this is my reward. And I am grateful).
My love affair with the Flats never waned and I don't foresee a time when I won't be filled with wonder and appreciation of this delightful Transylvania County!
