Cades Cove Archives -

Coyotes and Deer and Bears…Oh, MY!

By Simone Lipscomb | September 10, 2014

This morning’s visit to my sacred grounds was off-the-chart with good soul medicine. With better light today, photography was easier. And I suppose the animals liked the sunnier weather as they were out and well-represented at dawn.

I had a nice visit with a white-tailed buck who cared less that I was photographing him. There were other deer and a doe that showed off her jumping skills as she cleared two fences in apparent nervous flight. I’m guessing the star of my morning, a wily coyote, is what spooked the little girl. Not long after she cleared the second fence, Mr. Hilarious trotted out of the field and got in front of my car and escorted me down the gravel road.

He finally angled off the road and was headed into a thicket of trees. I had just caught up with him as he entered the woods so made some little whooping sounds. He sat down and started scratching. I hurried to set the ISO, aperture and shutter speed on my camera and got a few nice shots. He stood up to leave and I made the same funny whooping hoots and he sat down again and scratched. It was probably coincidence but it made me laugh just wondering if I accidently discovered a secret coyote sitting spell.

Later, after visiting a beautiful little roadway in another part of the park and finding my bliss in photographing and sound-recording water, I went back to Cades Cove. The traffic was a bit trying (code for: I lost my patience) and a bear jam didn’t help matters. I managed to catch a glimpse of a mother and two cubs as the park volunteer scared them up a hill. I’ve seen people act completely stupid with bears, forgetting that they are not tame, cuddly creatures but very large mammals with four-inch claws. However, those are stories for another day….and they do explain how the gene pool gets cleansed on occasion.

The wildness here, even with many visitors, is what calls to me. I find quiet places where few people go and spend a few moments completely lost in the creative process of capturing the essence of a stream or flower or dew-soaked spider web. In the quiet, when it’s just the crickets and birds and wind singing the story of this place, I am at peace. I am connected to something grand, magnificent. I am home.

Listening to Earth

By Simone Lipscomb | September 9, 2014

It’s quiet here. Or perhaps I should say it’s still here. In the pale, pre-dawn light, the soothing sounds of crickets and other night-singers serenade me as I sit in the car, waiting in line with anticipation for the gate to open and allow a visit Cade’s Cove at sunrise.

Blue-gray fog hovers just above tree tops. Drops of moisture slide down tiers of leaves and finally on to soft, rain-soaked soil. Staccato drop….drop….SPLAT! Cool air caresses my face as it tentatively enters my open windows, soundless but equally pleasurable.

Softly, slowing the morning arrives. There is no place on Earth I would rather be than in this wild and protected place. I too feel safe here, protected and free to connect with wild acres of forest, meadow and stream…and resident wildlife.

Finally the gate opens and the line of vehicles slowly disperses, each of us going to our own sweet spot. With no particular plan, I am guided to the Primitive Baptist Church. It’s down a gravel road and sits, front door open, welcoming me.

I walk in timidly, checking to see if a bear family or, even more scary, a skunk family might have used it for their morning napping place but there is nobody here except me and the beautiful spiritual presence of this place. The potent nature energies weave through the building and invite a balance of human and nature.

As is my custom, whenever I find myself alone here, I sing. Today I notice how the notes and words roll through the large room, how the sound moves in waves…wave upon wave reverberating through old rough-hewn lumber.

I move on as other humans began to arrive and find myself, once again, alone.

This time I am sitting on a large rock, with a large fuzzy-covered microphone in hand and headphones over my ears. I am recording nature sounds–specifically…rushing water. I explore how sound bounces off of large rocks. It seems some rocks hold sound and I find myself intrigued and hold the mic beside a beautiful moss-covered gray rock sitting on the edge of the creek. I’m listening to Earth, I think. How sweet it feels to connect so deeply with Her.

At the end of the day fatigue from lack of sleep and long travels has disappeared and been replaced with an inner calm that is profound. Vision usually guides me in my explorations into the wilds but today sweet sounds of Earth were the guide. Something within me that was asleep has awakened and I feel more alive, more present…simply from listening to Earth.