it was a mild October day.
The leaves had just transformed in to the fireworks of colors that we so often associated with autumn.
i was in the midst of a journey from far southern tip of the blue ridge parkway to the very end of the long winding road that
races across the top of the great smoky mountains.
i was in the middle of a rut in life. i had moved nearly every six months for 5 years.
i was searching.
i was tried.
i was beaten.
i was lost.
i was alone.
i was trying to find something unattainable.
i was looking for a home.