Mother Nature’s Son

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 a peacefulness and a oneness with nature.

Now that the summer visitors have mostly left the mountain and the temperatures are still wonderful, I decided to mosey over to Lake Gregory to sit and relax on its tree-covered shore. Since I neglected to bring a fishing pole and the swim beach was closed, I guess I just was there to contemplate the world 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 daily and see the many sounds and colors of nature as the seasons change. I hear a silent whispering of a quiet breeze through the trees that is telling me that summer is planning to leave, soon.

“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) (written by Paul McCartney)

When I put my toes into the cool waters of Seeley 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 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 little busier. It’s nice so many more 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 off the rocks and pick up leftover bottles, cans and other trash. However, it is so sad they have to.

Well, I’m going to mosey out to my deck and watch the squirrels chase each other up and around a tall cedar or oak tree and enjoy a tall, cool one…no, not a tall, cool, blonde gal…Besides, Rhea would crown me, and I don’t mean king! Perhaps I’ll have a bottle of locally brewed blonde ale and sing a song.

Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott