And Roark's Cove wears it well.
"People who daily expect to encounter fabulous realities run smack into them again and again. They keep their minds open for their eyes." (Ken Macrorie)
Showing posts with label Roark's Cove. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roark's Cove. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Saturday, November 2, 2013
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Roark's Cove Color
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Commuting through the Countryside
I have a long commute (about 51 miles), but happily it's a beautiful one.
I begin atop a mountain and, on a good day like today, wind down Roark's Cove Road (also called the Alto Road), with switchbacks and dropoffs all the way down. Then I drive past a beautiful year-round garden into tiny Alto, where I turn right by the seedman and pass the peach-colored old house, circa 1900, with its five-grave front-yard cemetery. Then it's onto Highway 64 to the interstate at a Stuckey's where I've stopped for candy and, once, for lunch. After thirty miles on the freeway (by the Arnold Air Force and Arnold Engineering and then through Manchester), I turn off onto another Highway 64 (The Walking Horse Highway) and then Highway 82 (Sawney Webb Memorial Highway.
It's 82 that I enjoy most for its views of rolling farmland dotted with cows and goats and hummocks of green as far as my eye can see. This morning, I pulled off in the middle of the bent S-curve to take this photo, but it doesn't really capture the charm. Like rural England, rural Middle Tennessee is a verdant place indeed that lifts the spirit even before 7 AM.
I begin atop a mountain and, on a good day like today, wind down Roark's Cove Road (also called the Alto Road), with switchbacks and dropoffs all the way down. Then I drive past a beautiful year-round garden into tiny Alto, where I turn right by the seedman and pass the peach-colored old house, circa 1900, with its five-grave front-yard cemetery. Then it's onto Highway 64 to the interstate at a Stuckey's where I've stopped for candy and, once, for lunch. After thirty miles on the freeway (by the Arnold Air Force and Arnold Engineering and then through Manchester), I turn off onto another Highway 64 (The Walking Horse Highway) and then Highway 82 (Sawney Webb Memorial Highway.
It's 82 that I enjoy most for its views of rolling farmland dotted with cows and goats and hummocks of green as far as my eye can see. This morning, I pulled off in the middle of the bent S-curve to take this photo, but it doesn't really capture the charm. Like rural England, rural Middle Tennessee is a verdant place indeed that lifts the spirit even before 7 AM.
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