I had not planned to go anywhere on Friday but after dropping Daphne off at school I just did not feel like going home. I headed up Hwy 7 to see how the fall colors were progressing up north of Russellville. I turned west onto Hwy 123 and was thinking of going to Pam's Grotto but decided instead to take Indian Creek Rd back toward the south. I stopped many times along the way to take photos of a few areas with some color.
I came to a spot in the road where something along the creek caught my eye. I parked the truck and grabbed my camera and tripod and headed down to the creek. What had caught my eye was a bend in the creek that had a nice little overhang that had been cut into the bank. I spent the next 45 minutes taking photos along that bend in the creek and some other spots just downstream that had some nice color.
Another couple of miles down the road I noticed an old rock fence leading away from the road and decided I needed to stretch my legs some more so off I went. The old stone wall went down by the edge of the creek and made a right turn and followed Indian Creek downstream. This is one of many stone walls left by the early pioneers who called these areas home way back in the 1800's. They built these walls with rocks they had cleared from their fields. When you look at the old walls it is amazing to think of how much work it took to build it placing stone on top of stone. And it was all done by hand with no modern machinery. The determination and work ethic of these early pioneers always amazes me. I followed this wall downstream at least a half mile and it was still going when I turned back. I plan to come back in a few weeks to use my gps to measure it and see just how far it goes.
It was a beautiful day to be out enjoying the forest. The pictures turned out great but just cannot even begin to show the true beauty of what you experience being there yourself. There is so much more than what the eyes see. God gave us all the other senses so we could enjoy his creation to the fullest extent. The sounds of the wind blowing through the trees or the water rushing over stones in the creek. The feel of the bark on the trees or the soft touch of the moss that grows in the shaded areas and on the damp rocks. The smell of fall in the air, an aroma like no other. The taste of the wild plums that I found still on a tree left untouched by the animals that inhabit this area. I only wish I would never have to leave places such as this. I feel more at home here than in any town or city I could ever visit.