Smoky Mountains Archives

A New Perspective

By Simone Lipscomb | May 23, 2020

It had been a rainy, cool day. Gray skies. Rain. Rain. Rain. The blueberry bushes in the garden must have grown three inches in one day. Each time I looked out the window, more green. It was the kind of day that lures me into an easy nap. Drop, drop, drop on the metal roof. Low light. A bit chilly so perfect sinking-into-the-puffy-recliner-reading weather.

I woke from the doze around 7.15pm and began watching a video of two therapists that are doing a weekly chat about life in these strange times of viral storms. Actually, to be honest…I call it a viral shitstorm. But that’s another story.

Several days of rain had put a damper…literally…on flying my drone and I hadn’t expected a break in the weather but as I watched the video, I glanced out the window….no wind…no rain…still 30 minutes before sunset. I quickly checked the app that gives me cloud base information, wind, gusts, temperature, satellite info for GPS, precipitation, cloud cover, visibility, wind direction, sunrise/sunset…and whatever else I need to know before flying. Good to go!

I paused the video, ran upstairs and grabbed my case with drone, controller, licenses, permits, batteries and all the stuff necessary for safe flying. Just a quick up and down in the driveway would at least give me a bit of airtime.

I kept the flight altitude to only 85 feet…just above the treetops. There were clouds but I was far under them per FAA guidelines. The clouds had interesting shapes which was encouraging for photography and there were small areas of fog in the valley below so that added to my growing hope for interesting images.

And then…as the drone hovered directly overhead (I live at 2100 feet elevation) the sky began to do something amazing. It appeared that a spiral of clouds was coming out of the sun. And then wispy, thin fog tendrils began to creep over the mountain below the clouds. It takes hardly any time for fog to creep over mountain tops and more than once I have witnessed fog climb that particular nearby mountain and create a sea of white below the peak.

The light just before sunset, just before sunrise is always the sweetest. But that day it was the spiraling clouds, the creeping fog and the gray light that had me standing in my pajamas and fluffy slippers with my mouth hanging open and the words…oh…my…GOD! coming from a deep place of inner awe.

Flying a drone gives a new perspective, a new way to learn about the place in which I live. It helps me rise above everyday attitude as I gain altitude. I love it when Nature gifts me with a phenomena that renders me nearly speechless or a place that cannot be described in words.

And Finally, Peace Came

By Simone Lipscomb | February 8, 2020

I was working downstairs, finishing up painting started before Christmas. I took a break and went upstairs to get water and a snack and saw beautiful, fluffy snowflakes drifting gently to the ground. Finally, it’s snowing.

I grabbed my snow pants, jacket and snow boots and after quickly dressing asked Buddy if he wanted to go outside. What a silly question, right?

It was 27 degrees and snowing heavily. I couldn’t see the ridge of the Smoky Mountain National Park or any of the ridges in front of my home. We were in a complete whiteout. The only thing visible was the area around my home.

It was so quiet, especially given the strong winds that blew through after the floods two days ago. Everything stopped and was silent.

So I stopped and became silent. Not just for those few moments but from the past two years. Everything stood still inside me and I finally took a deep breath.

Two years ago I was in Ireland enjoying my most favorite place on the planet, besides the Smoky Mountains where I now live. But a lot of stuff…no, a lot of shit…has gone down between those precious days in Ireland and today on the mountain where I live, move and have my being.

Finding balance has been challenging as I feel somewhat stuck in a trauma loop. But the snow, the silence, the softness drew me inward like only the magic of winter can. Suddenly, and without warning, peace unfolded from deep within my core.

When Miracles Happen…Preview

By Simone Lipscomb | December 1, 2019

Never in my wildest dreams would I have dreamed that this view, from my favorite sunrise overlook in the Smoky Mountain National Park, would be where I am now living. I remember being in awe of the pink and lavender sunrise and writing about it.

Now, many years later, I sit at my computer looking out a window across to the point where this image was taken. To the far left from where I sit is Clingman’s Dome but to the near left is the overlook where my favorite image of the Smoky Mountains was taken.

It’s been just over a week since the move and every day I am discovering more delightful and deep synchronicities that led me here. During the past two months there have been miracles that make my jaw drop but for now I’ll just say I’m here. Where I belong. It took a while with a lot of ups and downs but I’m here. And grateful to the depths of my being.

Right now the fog that was at higher elevations when I started writing this has settled into the valley. Like the fog, I’ll settle and write more later in the week but I want to allow the words to come and right now I’m still rather speechless. And grateful. Profoundly grateful.

Returning Home

By Simone Lipscomb | August 25, 2018

I was watching the movie, Hostiles, and heard myself saying out-loud tearfully, “I have to return. I have to go back!” A Native American elder was returning to his home as a dying wish after incarceration by the US government.

Since I was a child the Appalachian Mountains have called me. When my parents asked my brother and me where we wanted to go on vacation I’d prompt my brother to say…the MOUNTAINS! He didn’t….but I tried. Anything to get back there…to spend time in those sacred and most-ancient mountains on the planet. I remember feeling so at home there and so much myself…so connected to the land and my own bones. Then the leaving….was heart-rending.

I lived there for six years and loved it but felt called to the shores of my birth where I’ve spent six years healing and connecting with energies needed to finish the process of preparing me for the next step in the journey.

Any time an impending move is explored, there are questions and ponderings. Before I put my energy 100% behind something as big as this, I want to be sure. So last night before bed I asked to be given a sign pointing me to where I feel called.

After not sleeping much I checked email during the night and found an email from a dear friend referring to my move to the Asheville area. And then tonight….the movie and the message directly from my soul, “I have to return! I have to go back!”

I don’t know how life works…how we feel ancestral connections so strongly and why our bones vibrate with some places so strongly. I can only surrender to the dance of my heart’s rhythm and the song of my soul as it guides me gently back, back, back to those ancient mountains.

Home…ultimately it is the Self, not an outward geographic location. And yet there are places that urge us inward and support and nurture that journey of the Pilgrim…the Fool’s travels on the Tree of Life…the Spiritual Warrior’s Empty-Handed Leap into the Void.

I. AM. READY.

Medicine for My Soul

By Simone Lipscomb | September 7, 2014

The heavy cloud-bank hugged the top of the mountains. Insubstantial in the physical realm, the ethereal beauty made it appear solid, like a living thing.

I don’t know why the first sight of mountain peaks makes me feel safe, secure and at home. I am mermaid by birth but these southern mountains feel like home for me. And it’s been that way since I was a kid. The Smoky Mountains were always my first choice for family vacations. And once there, I didn’t want to leave. On childhood visits I remember a deep sense of sadness when I had to leave with my family to return to the Alabama coast.

Several years ago my life-long dream of living in the mountains came true and I purchased a mountain home in Asheville. Equipped with a huge wall of windows and cathedral ceilings, I lived in a true Tree Church. But big water called me to Her and I sold my home and moved back to my place of birth.

Inspiration feels like work for me in the flat, coastal land…my soul feels lost. But one glimpse of the magnificent cloud, rolling and caressing the high peaks, and I felt alive again, at home with myself again.

The most productive and creative part of my life was while I lived on the side of a mountain. The sensation was one of expansion, of reaching out to touch something bigger than me….that was also reaching out for me.

Florida is where I’m ‘supposed’ to be this weekend. I had planned to be cave diving through the clear, underground aquifers in north Florida with friends but last week I had a strong inclination to change gears and visit ‘my’ mountains…perhaps as a way to fix the malaise in which I’ve found myself over the past year….or more.

Sure enough, as soon as I saw the mountains enveloped by cloud I felt aligned, at home with myself and at peace. I felt I could breathe again. How can I bottle this and take it back to my cottage on the coast?

It’s odd, seeing that I feel at home diving underwater with rays, fish and coral more than I do walking among humans. So why are the mountains…specifically the Smoky’s, my spiritual home? Do they remind me, like being underwater, of my inner wild woman? Or some past from another time?

Maybe no explanation is necessary. Perhaps my soul needs the vastness of the ocean and mountains, both of which call to my wild spirit. Here, nestled among the oldest mountains on the planet, I feel support and love from the Earth herself. I feel myself breathe and expand and connect with Spirit effortlessly. This is Medicine for my soul.