It was a lovely day for a Sunday hike on the nature trails that back up to our neighborhood.
The trails are part of a system of trails created by the Audubon Acres Society of Chattanooga and they stretch for miles running along the South Chickamauga Creek and surrounding areas.
First we hiked to an ancient Native American village site called Little Owl Village where archaeologists uncovered a hearth and shelter that was made by native people who wintered there hundreds of years ago.
I met up with our neighborhoods who I joined for a stroll along the creek which looks more like a river now as the waters today had risen high along the banks.
From our back porch we have a panoramic view of Lookout Mountain and the surrounding ridge lines, a view that stretches for miles overlooking what is now the greater Chattanooga area.
The ancient mountains in the distance make up the Cumberland plateau and enclose the Sequatchie Valley.
Every day I’m in awe of this amazing outpost, gazing out to the gently rolling hills and long ridge line of Lookout Mountain, one of the longest plateaus in the world.
It is amazing to think that these mountains, the Appalachians, could have once been the tallest mountain range in the world, rising up taller than the Himalayas.
I can’t help thinking that the ridge we now call home must have been a sacred spot for the native people who once called it home. Just being able to look out into the distance and see so far must have been a great benefit to them.
They could probably have easily seen weather systems moving in or even kept an eye out for foreign people entering their territories from a distance.
It must have been so difficult to be forced from these beautiful vistas, herded like cattle to unknown and unforgiving lands on the brutal Trail of Tears. Certainly this is one of the darkest chapters in our nation’s history, one that may be often overlooked and easily forgotten.
I have always felt an attachment to these mountains, their hidden places and ancient people. Just in the distance I see Lookout Mountain knowing that a valley just beyond is where my mother was born and raised.
I’m lucky to be here and to now have neighbors to hike the trails and enjoy the scenery with today. I appreciate the scenic beauty of this landscape and keep the memory of my ancestors alive in this place.
It feels like home to me here for reasons that run deeper than just my love of the mountains.
At a more primordial level I feel as though I belong here, as if remnants of a soul from my past made a home and family here long ago, also loving the beauty and serenity of the place as I do now.
Though the valley that stretches out before me has changed due to the addition of modern highways, billboards, and city lights, the backdrop silhouette of those mountains remains the same as they did 500 hundred years ago when the native people walked these woods and enjoyed the smells, sights, and sounds of earth as I did today, reminding me of the relatively of time to the slow rolling mountain peaks and the precious beauty of each fleeting moment that a passerby experiences along the way.
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