The weekend before I visited the Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens in Hiawassee, GA. (see my previous post here ) was the beginning of their weekend festivals. There were some vendors' tents but they were closed, apart from one that was partly opened. You could see the rustic wood pieces for sale. Before I left the gardens I checked to see if someone was in this tent, but there was no one, although I was able to get a business card of the wood craftsman. In 2019 a large hackberry tree in front of my house in Nashville was struck by lightning and had to be cut down. A piece of the tree was given to me and it fit on top of a plant stand I had. So I was interested in a little table I had seen under the tent in the garden as a match for my plant stand. Upon return to the lodge I called the wood artisan and left a message. He called me back and told me he had some pieces for sale in his house and only lived about 6 miles away in Young Harris, GA. We agreed that I would go there the next morning early, before 9 am as I had to meet a friend in Hiawassee at 10:30 am. He gave me his address and said I could find it easily with my GPS. I got up at 6 am the next morning to pack and have a quick breakfast. I was able to take a photo of the sunrise over the lake as pictured in my header photo. I checked Google Maps and saw his house in the middle of woods on a hill. Below is a map of the aread where I was. It is located in the Southern Appalachian Mountains on the border of Georgia and North Carolina. (Click on collage to enlarge.) I placed the address in my car GPS and drove away. Upon reaching Young Harris my GPS told me to turn right on GA State Route 66, then left, then a bit later right, then further on left, then right again, then left and then it said "You have reached your destination." I was on a hill with no houses anywhere near. I called him and he told me two roads had the same name and I was on the wrong one. My GPS was useless then and I could not remember all the turns. After a while I tried to call him again but I was on a tiny road on a hill and there was no cellular signal. I kept driving but the road was twisting up the mountain. I was totally lost. I had seen a house on the side, among the trees, and started going back toward their driveway to ask for directions. Then I remembered that I was in the US, and asking directions can be dangerous. The red marker on the map below shows where his house was and the black cross near the North Carolina border, in the mountains, was where I went. I gingerly turned around (as by then the road was one lane) and after twists and turns somehow got back on the main road where my cell phone worked again and he came and met me. I did find a small table at his house and bought it. Then I had to find my way back to the main road again... not easy. This little trip should have taken me 45 minutes but ended taking almost 2 hours (I was lost for a long time...) Luckily I made it back to Hiawassee by 10:30 am to meet my Swiss friend. Then after a nice visit with a strong cup of coffee and a tasty piece of almond cake I drove down the road again toward Bavarian-style Helen, Georgia. It was a lovely morning and the route around the mountains is scenic but I had forgotten that it is steep hill mountain driving on a winding road with blind curves. Although I am used to these mountain roads if I don't use the interstate highways between Tennessee and Georgia, but I had to keep my eyes on the road and not the blubbling stream along the highway. Arriving in Helen, I stopped at the Betty's Country Store. The first time my husband and I drove to Hiawassee we stopped at Betty's Country Store to buy a snack for our baby daughters. That was back in 1975. The store had opened in 1973 and was quite small, selling mostly fruits, vegetables and snacks. Now it had expanded quite a lot, like a large supermarket, with meat, beer and wines, etc., and eating areas outdoors. I drove about 1.5 miles down to the village of Sautee-Nacoochee and stopped at the Nora Mill Granary Grist Mill and Country Store (one of the southeast's last working grist mill.) A small dam on the Chattahoochee River was built there in 1824, and later, in 1876, a grist mill was established selling grits, flours and cornmeal. The mill is four stories tall and has 1,500 pound French Burr Mill stones, a 100-foot wooden raceway and a water turbine. A gold prospector, John Martin, built the mill in 1876. In 1901 it was purchased by Dr. Lamartine G. Hardman who named the mill after his sister Nora. Now the mill has been run by four generation of the Fain family. They still use the original stones to make flours, grits, cornmeal, etc. They sell other products like jams, salsa, hot sauces, syrups, local honeys and pre-packaged products such as pioneer's porridge, pancake and waffle mixes, biscuit and bread mixes amd more. The old-fashioned country store attached to the mill is quaint and it is fun to walk around and look at everything for sale, which I did and took numerous photos. An assortment of kitchen items were also for sale such as cast iron cookware, cookbooks, wooden mixing bowls and trays, old-fashioned candles and other attractive kitchen gifts. I walked out to the breezeway and porch that overlooks the Chattahoochee River. Large trout could be seen gathering at the foot of the dam. It was a warm and sunny day. Watching the trout from the deck and listening to the bubbling river below was vey relaxing after all the mountain driving. Back inside I took more photos of interesting old items on the walls. There was also information on how the mill operates. It uses turbines rather than the water wheels used by most mills of that time. It gives an idea on how flour was produced in the past, and how this mill has kept producing stone-ground grains for almost 150 years. The mill is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. Before I left I purchased a few items, some requested by my daughters, and a few for me, as shown below. I make my own jams but I bought a couple that were a mixture, to taste and see if I'd like to try making them - T.O.E jam (tangering, orange, elderberry) and Five Pepper Strawberry jelly (strawberry, green bell pepper, jalapeno pepper, Thai pepper, cayenne pepper, habanero pepper.) For the people who cannot drive to the North Georgia Mountains to buy their products Nora Mill has an online store, click here for it. Once you click on the online store link you will see all the different items for sale, and they ship. Then it was time to hit the road again. I could have driven down the highway to Atlanta but that would have meant crossing the city during rush hour... Instead I cut across the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains to Talking Rock, GA. to join highway I-575 down to my area, close to Kennesaw Mountain. It was a small two lane road from Nacoochee to Talking Rock with many curves, but there was hardly any traffic, and it was scenic. I arrived home at 5:30 pm, quite tired and hungry as I had had no lunch. I unloaded the car and noticed that my newly purchased table (made of maple) was a lot smoother and shinier than the piece of hackberry wood I had placed on top of my plant stand. Later, I called the wood artisan to ask him what I should do. He suggested that I bring my piece of wood back to him and he would work on it. Well, now, will I dare go back and get lost in the mountains once more? I told him I may come back in a couple of months... There was no fresh food in the house and I did not feel like eating a frozen dinner, so I drove to the local diner. They serve fresh meals with large portions. I usually can bring food home for a couple more meals. I had a meat, two vegetables and a side of coleslaw salad. Then the server came and asked what dessert I had selected. I told him I was full and ate only a third of my meal. He said he would bring me a take-out box and asked again what dessert I wanted. I repeated I desired no dessert to which he replied "you have to select a dessert." I asked him why? He said "because someone has paid for your meal and dessert is included." I asked him who had paid and he said he was not at liberty to tell me. So I selected a piece of strawberry cake to take home. When he brought it to me he said "a funny thing happened - someone else wanted to pay for your meal and I said 'too late, her meal is already paid for'. I was astounded and asked him if this occurred often in his restaurant. He told me he had been working there for a long while and he could think of no other time this took place for one of his customers. I was speechless. What a day it had been - getting lost on primitive roads in the North Georgia Mountains after sunrise, and being afraid to ask for directions, then having two different patrons wishing to buy my dinner at sunset. How about that! Certainly a day to remember.

In a letter to his sister Sarah in September 1873, John Muir (Scottish-American environmentalist, naturalist, author and more, 1838-1914) was recalling his longest and hardest trip into the mountains, but still felt determined to be off again, working in the mountains... He would wake up at 4:30 am and start writing ... he told her "The mountains are calling and I must go, and I will work on while I can..." I have this quotation painted on a piece of wood in my kitchen (that I bought in Dahlonega, a southern Appalachian mountain village in Georgia.) As for me, I'm not called to the mountains for work, but to lift my spirits and improve my outlook on life. In a 2013 post "Times goes by in a park..." I explained that since childhood I have lived near mountains or hills. High places have been a sort of refuge for me from the distress of the world. In time of sadness, such as those painful last weeks in Nashville after the school shootings in my neighborhood, I crave going to the mountains. On the first anniversary of the month my husband died I drove to the North Carolina and the North Georgia mountains to find solace in nature (see my post of Oct. 2019 "Lake Chatuge in the N GA Mountains." (I hope I can convey the feelings because as I get older I sometime search for words and they usually come back in French first (my native language) then I have to translate them into English!) A week or so ago, I drove to my house in Georgia then a couple of days later drove on to the North GA Mountains, to Hiawassee (population as of 2022: 961.) I stayed at a lodge on a hill overlooking Lake Chatuge. Fortunately, there was a lovely view of the lake and mountains from my little balcony. A mile from this lodge is the Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens. The weekend before I arrived in Hiawassee was the start of their "Rhododendron Festival" which lasts five weekends from April 14 through May 14, 2023, with craft vendors, live music, plant sale, etc. The gardens are open all year long. From May through October the gardens also host moonlight concerts. Peak rhododendron viewing is usually from mid April through May. I went there on Tuesday April 18 which was a bit early for this season; because of the unusual hard freeze this past winter most of the rhododendrons were not blooming yet, although some different varieties were in pots for sale (click on collage to enlarge and read panels.) Fred R. Hamilton, Sr. (1914-1996) and his wife Hazel began growing rhododendrons in their Atlanta garden in 1952. There they collected native rhododendrons and azaleas. They also had a mountain getaway on the slopes of Lake Chatuge in Hiawassee, Georgia, where they developed hybrids and where, later, they relocated their 1000+ plants. In 1981 they donated them to Towns County in what is now known as the Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens. This 33 acre enchanting garden is located atop the Georgia Mountain Fairgrounds campus. It contains more than 1,500 rhododendrons (400 varieties) as well as native azaleas, tulip magnolias, dogwoods, redbuds, hydrangeas, and wildflowers native to the Appalachian Mountains like Solomon's seal, wild ginger, lady slippers, trout lily, and trillium. In addition in 2018, as part of the Daffodil Project, and international campaign to plant 1.5 million daffodils worldwide as a tribute to the children lost in the Holocaust, 600 daffodil bulbs were added to the garden. There were few visitors around the day I stopped by the gardens. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny. Even if most of the rhododendrons were not in bloom many of the azalea bushes were. Azaleas, with tubular and funnel shape flowers, are in the genus rhododendron; they are deciduous and lose their leaves in the fall. Rhododendrons, with bell shaped flowers, are evergreen and keep their leaves in winter. Fred Hamilton developed the yellow azalea, the only domestic yellow azalea in existence, which he named after his wife, Hazel (Rhododendron flammeum 'Hazel Hamilton'.) I did not walk the whole 2 miles of mulched woodland trails through the property as some of the walking paths were winding down to the lake shore and were rather steep. There were many benches scattered along the way. I just traded in my old Nikon camera for a newer model and was testing it. Although to make sure, I also carried my Canon and small Sony (and then I even took photos with my cell phone, because why not.) One of the most spectacular shrubs there was the "flame" azalea. It is native of the Appalachian Mountains. Mountain people call it also butterfly azalea or wild honeysuckle. The striking flowers certainly lighten the woodland like little fires. There were small wood bridges along the trails. I walked very slowly because I kept stopping to take closeups of the flowers. As I made my way around the pine bark trail some bursting soft pink azalea shrubs lead me to the Bonnie Day arbor. I enjoyed resting on a bench for a little while. Then I took the 'Cut Across Trail' to have a look at the Claude Brooks waterwheel. First a profusion of blooming hot pink rhododendrons greeted me at the Claudia Brooks overlook. I took more closeups of some of the plants for sale next to the garden shop. These stunning gardens are very peaceful and tranquil; an enchanting spot to relax and escape from it all. The Hamilton Rhododendron Gardens was designated a state botanical garden by the Georgia Legislature in 2003. It boasts the largest collection of rhododendron in the Southeast. Then it was time to return to the lodge. A needed rest on my little balcony was welcome. Then as the evening grew I soaked in the beauty of the sky changing color over the lake. "This grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming, on seas and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls." -John Muir, 1938.

Last Christmas morning, you may remember that I mentioned on my blog post "Cooking for the Holidays" that I had been surprised by a murmuration of starlings in my backyard. But this time the birds were robins, a flock of them. They flew on my back deck, so many I stopped counting at 45. They kept moving and it was difficult taking photographs. I decided to just concentrate on individual birds. (Click on collage to enlarge.) I enjoy watching birds but am not knowledgeable about them. I read up on the robin - the American robin is a large songbird with long legs, round body and a fairly long tail. They are the largest of the thrushes here. American settlers named these birds "robin" because they looked like the European robins, but actually they are not from the same family. The American robin is from the subspecies of Turdus migratoris. The European robin is from the subspecies of Saxicolinae. They both have a reddish orange breast, although not as pronounced in the European robin. In winter the American robins form flocks (sometimes hundreds or thousands of them,) to avoid predators. During the spring and summer they are mostly independent. They came in my backyard two consecutive mornings, flying from the trees to my deck or the ground. The third morning I looked for them, but they did not come back. But I have many postcards with robins on them. Robins were a favorite subject on vintage greeting postcards, especially during the winter holidays. In January I missed my monthly trip to Georgia because I was waiting for the Covid vaccine. I finally received the first shot on January 28th. Then I drove to Georgia for about 10 days in early February, returning last Sunday. The trip to Georgia took 6 hours because of road work being done on interstate 24 close to Chattanooga. After driving for one and a half hour for what usually takes 20 minutes I took the side trip through the North Georgia Mountains. It took as long but I was rolling. Coming back last Sunday I was hoping the trip to Nashville would be faster, even though I am always apprehensive about the mountains near Monteagle, Tennessee. And sure enough - I drove through Chattanooga under overcast skies with no problems, but then as I ascended the steep incline towards Monteagle I entered the fog. The trees and vegetation had suddenly appeared covered with ice. As the fog kept thickening I decided to exit the highway at the travelers' rest stop. A good thing I knew its location, too, because the exit ramp was barely visible. As it is, a huge truck could not see it and at the last minute veered in front of me toward the rest stop (giving me a shot of adrenalin...) Parking the car carefully I decided to take my time, eat my snack and drink coffee in the car hoping the fog would lighten up. There were only a couple of other vehicles and they departed. I kept watching the trees. I thought when I can see them better I'll start driving again. About 45 to 50 minutes later I started seeing the trees. I had heard sounds of engines nearby but seen no vehicles. I came out of my car to check. Surprise! I could count as many as 14 or 15 snow trucks parked behind me and more were coming. I became worried that maybe Nashville was under heavy snow. I asked one of the drivers where were they heading - Memphis, Tennessee he replied. Why? It's going to snow heavily starting on Monday there and they have hardly any equipment he said. I forgot to ask about Nashville weather, so I decided to start moving down the steep downgrade. I did not need to drink coffee to stay alert while driving down that dangerous descent - it always gets my undivided attention. In the 1980s that stretch of east-bound I-24 was notorious for killing truck drivers. Later they improved the interstate there but crossing Monteagle is still one of the most notorious stretches of mountains interstate east of the Mississippi. With some trepidation I began driving following a couple of 18-wheeler trucks. Visibility became better as I came down the road. Traffic close to Nashville was very light. Bad weather was forecast and motorists had been told to stay inside. It was dry when I arrived at my house but by evening it started snowing. On Monday the roads were covered with snow and it was very cold. It snowed during the night and today, Tuesday 16 February, 2021, not much is moving. The temperature is a frigid 13 degrees F (-10C) which is unheard of around here. It did snow heavily in Memphis - up to 12 inches yesterday (30.5 cm) so those snow trucks I had seen were certainly needed. I realized that today is Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday in French.) How I wish I was in New Orleans! Because of the virus they are not having their usual parades. The parades are cancelled, but not the Mardi Gras celebration. Instead the residents, who love a party, are decorating their houses to celebrate. I looked at the New Orleans site and a couple of newspapers. Photographs below courtesy the Gentilly Messenger and Allen Boudreaux. Since there would be no parade this year, Megan Joy Boudreaux asked everyone to turn their house into a float, as a joke. But the idea took off and she started a Facebook group, the Krewe of House Floats, for her neighbors. Then 39 subgroups joined with more than 9,000 members. Thousands made "house" floats. Vive New Orleans and its great spirit that a pandemic cannot suppress! It has been frigid here all day. It looked so pretty though that I thought I'd walk around the block to take pictures. A couple was coming down the road with walking sticks as I was taking pictures from my front porch. As they passed my house the woman fell in the snow. I took pictures to my right and to my left, then gingerly walked to the road and took one photo. But then my fingers were numb from the glacial air. After a nice warm cup of tea I ventured to the back deck for some pictures. My cat Mitsouko was looking at the deck, hoping to see a bird; too cold for birds and other critters, but a lonely fox was walking down the back alley. My daughter and son-in-law went for a walk at the golf course near their home today and sent me the photos below. They look like they are standing somewhere in Alaska, not just south of Nashville. Although today, Mardi Gras 2021, it was 28 F in Anchorage, Alaska, and 11 F (-11.66C) in Brentwood, TN... just saying... Here in my street the sun is starting to come back; next week hopefully it will warm up. And maybe we will see the birds again?