Up With the Chickens

This morning I am sitting on my parent’s front porch aside a mountain in Hiawassee, Georgia. I was the first to stir, so after turning on the coffee maker, I headed out the door to enjoy the peace of the day.

Before I sat down, I took a little walk around the garage to bid a good day to my dad’s “girls”; six of the sweetest little hens who greeted me with soft clucks and head bobs. I’m sure they were expected some feed associated with the early morning visit but as a visitor, I’m not about to upset the routine, so after a few moments of women to hen conversation, I moved on.

Our trip down here yesterday was beautiful. If you’ve never driven down I81 through the Blue Ridge in Virginia and into Tennessee, you should add it to your bucket list. The vistas through those mountains are sublime. I would have taken a few pictures, but it seemed as though every time I had a good view, a semi would pull into view. It was I81 after all.

I can hear someone moving around in the kitchen, my alone time is over. Some coffee would surely taste good. For now, I’ll have to say goodbye to the quiet of the morning until tomorrow.

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