I don’t know what happens when we leave the mountains and head back to our homes down in the “flatlands.” The memory of the enormous mounds of rock fades, and the size shrivels in our minds – so much so that the next time these mountains are visited, the rush of excitement and awe-inspiring scale is right there in the heart of the viewer, again.  Wonder of all kinds seems to fade with the passing of time.  Remember the excitement when you saw the one you love on that third or fourth date!   I can recall the joy when my parents surprised me with an electric guitar for my birthday and can count on two or three hands the extreme joy I had at other times (my wedding, our boys’ births, etc., etc.).

Joy and wonder – they are participation sports and something to be immersed in, like a place to “let go,” and to be held there – as if floating in Daddy’s arms in a pool.   They seem to come from a place inside where there are no worries, where we are being “held” by another, and where there is an assurance that there is a future and a hope.  I think this is part of the wonder of the mountains.  This awesome handiwork of God screams, “look at ME! I’m here, I’m for you, you are small, but I’ve got this” – as they stand strong over us, and point towards the heavens.    

I wanted to create that sense of “I am small” but look at all that wonder, peace, and beauty as you stand and look out over the Great Smoky Mountains and breathe in the sense of belonging, that sense of being held, and of knowing you are loved and cared for in this new image. Experience the Joy as I do every time I visit these grand old mountains and the friendly folks that live among them.

~ Mark Keathley