Thomas Divide Lights
By Cathy Burton
She pulled off the Blue Ridge Parkway onto the outlook for the Thomas Divide. No one else was there. Cars come and go, but none stayed as she watched the sun setting in brilliant reds and oranges behind the ridge of mountains. Birds chirp to each other as if calling all to bed in the nest hidden in an oak growing out of the sharp decline of mountain. The birdsongs stop when all are safely in the nest.
Rays of sunlight punch through the clouds to valleys and treetops as a mist rises briefly. The dark takes over with the sun's last rays of color. Just the outline of the oak is visible.
A thunderous engine of a pick-up approaches without headlights and parks next to her. Tinted windows hide the occupants, but she notices the plates are local. The pick-up engine is suddenly still as she climbs back into her car. Waiting to see if the truck's occupants will emerge, she starts her engine and locks the doors. She is determined to see the lights that appear on the Divide that
no scientist has yet to explain. Fear of unknown strangers will not deter her. Soon the other engine starts and leaves going back down the mountain with no headlights to distract the view.
The stars shine brilliantly, silently. Light pollution blocks her view of them at home making this a memorable night. Alone, she admires the stars she has not seen in years. A solitary cricket is there somewhere in the dark of the forest singing to itself. The full moon rises casting her shadow on the pavement as she stands next to her car. On this autumn night, a spotlight in the heavens shines on and reflects off the colored trees.
The cricket is suddenly silent. The wind has stopped its movement. Through the thickness of stillness around her, no sounds are heard. A light on the distant Divide glitters and fades. Then another appears, but dances on the mountain ridge before fading. Soon more appear, dance and fade throughout the ridge.
The wind stirs the dried leaves. A bird sings one short note before there is a crash in the forest behind her. The lights on the ridge disappear. There is only the moon casting shadows on the pavement as she reaches the car door.
- - -
Cathy Burton is an RN whose recent writing has been mostly medical in a non-fiction world.
By Cathy Burton
She pulled off the Blue Ridge Parkway onto the outlook for the Thomas Divide. No one else was there. Cars come and go, but none stayed as she watched the sun setting in brilliant reds and oranges behind the ridge of mountains. Birds chirp to each other as if calling all to bed in the nest hidden in an oak growing out of the sharp decline of mountain. The birdsongs stop when all are safely in the nest.
Rays of sunlight punch through the clouds to valleys and treetops as a mist rises briefly. The dark takes over with the sun's last rays of color. Just the outline of the oak is visible.
A thunderous engine of a pick-up approaches without headlights and parks next to her. Tinted windows hide the occupants, but she notices the plates are local. The pick-up engine is suddenly still as she climbs back into her car. Waiting to see if the truck's occupants will emerge, she starts her engine and locks the doors. She is determined to see the lights that appear on the Divide that
no scientist has yet to explain. Fear of unknown strangers will not deter her. Soon the other engine starts and leaves going back down the mountain with no headlights to distract the view.
The stars shine brilliantly, silently. Light pollution blocks her view of them at home making this a memorable night. Alone, she admires the stars she has not seen in years. A solitary cricket is there somewhere in the dark of the forest singing to itself. The full moon rises casting her shadow on the pavement as she stands next to her car. On this autumn night, a spotlight in the heavens shines on and reflects off the colored trees.
The cricket is suddenly silent. The wind has stopped its movement. Through the thickness of stillness around her, no sounds are heard. A light on the distant Divide glitters and fades. Then another appears, but dances on the mountain ridge before fading. Soon more appear, dance and fade throughout the ridge.
The wind stirs the dried leaves. A bird sings one short note before there is a crash in the forest behind her. The lights on the ridge disappear. There is only the moon casting shadows on the pavement as she reaches the car door.
- - -
Cathy Burton is an RN whose recent writing has been mostly medical in a non-fiction world.
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