I’m a bit, what do they call it today, electronically challenged?”
“I’d like to get one today ... hey, do you hear that? Shhhh, listen.”
From somewhere just behind the tree line came a loud knock-knock-knock as if someone was banging one of the tree trunks with an undersized hammer.
“Yeaaah, I hear it. It sounds like…”
“Look Tom,” Elaina interrupted, “There it is. See it.”
Flying from the bough of a tall pine tree, with the sun’s first soft rays setting it aglow, was the largest woodpecker we’d ever seen. A full foot and a half in length, it looked a little goofy, yet majestic, at the same time. It had a tall red crest atop its head and a white line running down its blackish neck. As it flew right above us, it called out as if it was scolding us. A loud, irregular kik-kikkik-kik-kik resonated throughout the campground and woods.
* * *
About an hour later, on the way to the Blue Ridge Parkway, we made a quick stop at a Wal-Mart. For the first time in as long as I can remember, we splurged. For many years we’d been splitting paper towels in half, cutting out grocery coupons, buying day-old bread. This day we sprung for that camera, and two reasonably-priced pairs of binoculars. On the way to the checkout, Elaina spotted A Field Guide to the Birds East of the Rockies, which we also bought. Minutes later, as I drove to the parkway, she checked the guide and found out the bird we’d seen was a Pileated Woodpecker.
The views from the Blue Ridge were absolutely breathtaking on that fall morning. Beyond every twist and turn, the panoramic visions of the Great Smoky Mountains were nothing short of astounding. Guaranteed, anyone who visits this place will leave with full color, mental snapshots indelibly forged in their mind. Folds of smooth rolling mountains stretch out in seemingly endless rows, in every direction, for as far as one can see. Mystical blue “smoke” rising from the countless peaks only intensified the magnificence surrounding us. Elaina and I just had to pull over to a small parking area and get out of the camper.
“Look at this, Tom,” she said in awe, “look at the colors. It’s like a red, orange, and gold quilt has been spread over every inch of these mountains. This is unbelievable.”
She took some photographs with the new camera, and then we just stood there for a few moments. Neither of us said a word. It was as if being in the midst of such beauty, we were partaking in a religious experience. Eventually, though, Elaina broke the silence. She’d noticed a nature trail leading down into the woods.
“Hey,” she said, “let’s take a walk. C’mon, Tom.”
“I don’t know. You sure you want to?”
“Oh, don’t be an old poop, let’s go!” she said, brimming with excitement.
With the new binoculars hanging from our necks, I said, “Shit yes, what the hell.”
I locked the Winnebago, and we carefully walked down a steep incline leading into the trees.
Happy as a teenager on prom night, she slung her arm around my waist as we entered the woods, and I did the same to her. Looking up into my eyes she squeezed my side and said, “We’re going to have one hell of a time on this trip, Tom. Can you imagine what it’s going to be like in Colorado and Montana this spring? What it’s going to be like in…”
The shot came from a high-powered rifle. There was no warning. Coming from the trees in front of us, the ear-splitting blast sounded like it was about fifty yards away. A cold chill froze my spine, and for just a splinter of that second, shock and confusion numbed my brain.
With my arm still around her waist, I felt Elaina jolt backwards. Reflexively, I tightened my grip on her and stiffened my arm, but it did no good. I could not stop her. My wife, my soul mate, my confidante, my life, lifted into the air and flew six feet backwards.
Time stood still. Oh my good God in heaven , I thought, this can’t be happening . But it was, and Elaina
“I’d like to get one today ... hey, do you hear that? Shhhh, listen.”
From somewhere just behind the tree line came a loud knock-knock-knock as if someone was banging one of the tree trunks with an undersized hammer.
“Yeaaah, I hear it. It sounds like…”
“Look Tom,” Elaina interrupted, “There it is. See it.”
Flying from the bough of a tall pine tree, with the sun’s first soft rays setting it aglow, was the largest woodpecker we’d ever seen. A full foot and a half in length, it looked a little goofy, yet majestic, at the same time. It had a tall red crest atop its head and a white line running down its blackish neck. As it flew right above us, it called out as if it was scolding us. A loud, irregular kik-kikkik-kik-kik resonated throughout the campground and woods.
* * *
About an hour later, on the way to the Blue Ridge Parkway, we made a quick stop at a Wal-Mart. For the first time in as long as I can remember, we splurged. For many years we’d been splitting paper towels in half, cutting out grocery coupons, buying day-old bread. This day we sprung for that camera, and two reasonably-priced pairs of binoculars. On the way to the checkout, Elaina spotted A Field Guide to the Birds East of the Rockies, which we also bought. Minutes later, as I drove to the parkway, she checked the guide and found out the bird we’d seen was a Pileated Woodpecker.
The views from the Blue Ridge were absolutely breathtaking on that fall morning. Beyond every twist and turn, the panoramic visions of the Great Smoky Mountains were nothing short of astounding. Guaranteed, anyone who visits this place will leave with full color, mental snapshots indelibly forged in their mind. Folds of smooth rolling mountains stretch out in seemingly endless rows, in every direction, for as far as one can see. Mystical blue “smoke” rising from the countless peaks only intensified the magnificence surrounding us. Elaina and I just had to pull over to a small parking area and get out of the camper.
“Look at this, Tom,” she said in awe, “look at the colors. It’s like a red, orange, and gold quilt has been spread over every inch of these mountains. This is unbelievable.”
She took some photographs with the new camera, and then we just stood there for a few moments. Neither of us said a word. It was as if being in the midst of such beauty, we were partaking in a religious experience. Eventually, though, Elaina broke the silence. She’d noticed a nature trail leading down into the woods.
“Hey,” she said, “let’s take a walk. C’mon, Tom.”
“I don’t know. You sure you want to?”
“Oh, don’t be an old poop, let’s go!” she said, brimming with excitement.
With the new binoculars hanging from our necks, I said, “Shit yes, what the hell.”
I locked the Winnebago, and we carefully walked down a steep incline leading into the trees.
Happy as a teenager on prom night, she slung her arm around my waist as we entered the woods, and I did the same to her. Looking up into my eyes she squeezed my side and said, “We’re going to have one hell of a time on this trip, Tom. Can you imagine what it’s going to be like in Colorado and Montana this spring? What it’s going to be like in…”
The shot came from a high-powered rifle. There was no warning. Coming from the trees in front of us, the ear-splitting blast sounded like it was about fifty yards away. A cold chill froze my spine, and for just a splinter of that second, shock and confusion numbed my brain.
With my arm still around her waist, I felt Elaina jolt backwards. Reflexively, I tightened my grip on her and stiffened my arm, but it did no good. I could not stop her. My wife, my soul mate, my confidante, my life, lifted into the air and flew six feet backwards.
Time stood still. Oh my good God in heaven , I thought, this can’t be happening . But it was, and Elaina
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