Tonight the cicadas are making their rhythmic sounds here at home and that made me remember a very nice evening and night spent at Look Rock campground back in the early 80s. We had just had several trying days on what was supposed to be a restful camping trip, with an unhappy five year old and a car that picked the mountain vacation to spring a leak in the radiator. Other nights had been spent elsewhere and we decided to go to Look Rock in order to have the shortest mountain drive possible and still be in the bounds of the park. The campground was nearly deserted and there was a retired couple who were park volunteers. As it turned out they were from our part of Mississippi and were delightful to talk to while the man wove cane bottoms for old chairs. Our campsite was lower down the side of the mountain than where the car was parked and we pitched our yellow Texsport dome tent in the most cozy and secluded feeling spot that we had in any other campground. There was little to do compared to other campgrounds in the Smokies, but that was fine with us. We took a walk through the nearly deserted campground on the road and one thing made a great impression on us. It was the absolute quiet that surrounded us there on the mountainside. After eating supper cooked on the Coleman stove we enjoyed a small campfire and as it became dark the cicadas began making their sounds. We finally crawled into our tent and got snug as snug can be and just laid there listening to their sounds. The sound was loud, but there was a rhythm to it, as regular as Grandmama’s old pendulum clock. Despite the loudness of it all, it seemed to regulate our senses and lure us to sleep. Later in the night the cicadas became more quiet and we found the summer night very cool and we all drew up closer together to finish a most memorable night. All these years later, it comes back to me now almost as if it had just happened a few days ago and it makes me want to go back. June 23, 2008
I loved reading this blog… we used to go to Tennesse every year when I was a kid. We had a cabin right below the ranger station where Look Rock Mountain is… what a beautiful place. It was an A Frame – no water, but we did have electricity. No toys or tv, just woods, campfires and a lot of imagination. I remember my parents taking us to a community lake in the area. We are getting ready to head up there (to Tennesse) tomorrow and I plan on driving by to see if the cabin still exists. Thanks for the reminder of what a special place that was.
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Tonight the cicadas are making their rhythmic sounds here at home and that made me remember a very nice evening and night spent at Look Rock campground back in the early 80s. We had just had several trying days on what was supposed to be a restful camping trip, with an unhappy five year old and a car that picked the mountain vacation to spring a leak in the radiator. Other nights had been spent elsewhere and we decided to go to Look Rock in order to have the shortest mountain drive possible and still be in the bounds of the park.
The campground was nearly deserted and there was a retired couple who were park volunteers. As it turned out they were from our part of Mississippi and were delightful to talk to while the man wove cane bottoms for old chairs.
Our campsite was lower down the side of the mountain than where the car was parked and we pitched our yellow Texsport dome tent in the most cozy and secluded feeling spot that we had in any other campground.
There was little to do compared to other campgrounds in the Smokies, but that was fine with us. We took a walk through the nearly deserted campground on the road and one thing made a great impression on us. It was the absolute quiet that surrounded us there on the mountainside.
After eating supper cooked on the Coleman stove we enjoyed a small campfire and as it became dark the cicadas began making their sounds. We finally crawled into our tent and got snug as snug can be and just laid there listening to their sounds. The sound was loud, but there was a rhythm to it, as regular as Grandmama’s old pendulum clock. Despite the loudness of it all, it seemed to regulate our senses and lure us to sleep.
Later in the night the cicadas became more quiet and we found the summer night very cool and we all drew up closer together to finish a most memorable night.
All these years later, it comes back to me now almost as if it had just happened a few days ago and it makes me want to go back.
June 23, 2008
I loved reading this blog… we used to go to Tennesse every year when I was a kid. We had a cabin right below the ranger station where Look Rock Mountain is… what a beautiful place. It was an A Frame – no water, but we did have electricity. No toys or tv, just woods, campfires and a lot of imagination. I remember my parents taking us to a community lake in the area. We are getting ready to head up there (to Tennesse) tomorrow and I plan on driving by to see if the cabin still exists. Thanks for the reminder of what a special place that was.