Mother Nature’s Son
Now that the summertime visitors have mostly left the mountain and the weather is still wonderful, I decided to mosey over to Lake Gregory to sit and relax on its tree-lined shore. Since I neglected to bring a fishing pole and the swim beach was closed, I was just there to contemplate nature and enjoy the peacefulness of the lake as any visitor might do.
We have a truly beautiful lake, which I assume many of us do not fully appreciate. Many of us walk the lake trails daily and see and hear the many sounds and colors of Mother Nature as the seasons change.
Born a poor young country boy, Mother Nature’s son. All day long I’m sitting, singing songs for everyone. Sit beside a mountain stream, see her waters rise, listen to the pretty sound of music as she flies. (“Mother Nature’s Son” – The Beatles – Penned by Paul McCartney – 1968)
Man, I sure do love this song. It’s so close to nature and makes me think about enjoying sitting in a field and noticing every little thing – the bugs, the leaves and the clouds. It reminds me to appreciate the little things in life. It’s a place that I hope to be sometime in the future, a place where there is peacefulness and a oneness with nature.
When I dip my toes into the cool waters of Seely Creek or Lake Gregory and notice how differently I may have seen them in the past, with only the knowledge of my young self instead of my wise old eyes of today, I’m amazed at the changes that have occurred, some that are good and some, unfortunately, that are not so good.
Let’s start with the good. As more folks are moving to the mountain and others are just coming to visit, it’s bringing more revenue to our mountain business owners. The Heart Rock trail is basically the same as it’s always been, just a lot busier these days. It’s nice so many people can enjoy the beauty of the area.
Now, the not so good. While there’s always been a problem with graffiti, it seems to be increasing. Fortunately, we have volunteers who will show up at the drop of a hat and clean the graffiti off the rocks and pick up leftover bottles, cans and other trash. However, it’s sad that this is necessary.
Well, I’m going to mosey out to my deck and watch the squirrels chase each other up, down and around a tall cedar or oak tree and enjoy a tall cool one…no, not a tall cool, blonde gal…Besides, my wife would crown me, and I don’t mean king. Perhaps I’ll have a bottle of locally brewed blonde ale and sing a song.
REPRISE: Born a poor young country boy, Mother Nature’s son, all day long I’m sitting, singing songs for everyone.
Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott