You can’t go home again…


…but you can go to your Mom’s house and have her cook you breakfast.

I grew up in the shadow of this mountain.  But I had to move away to realize how precious it is to me.  In my younger days we would climb to the top along the part of the Appalachian Trail that crosses there.  In the summer days hikers would stop here to rest at the hostel provided by the Catholic Church.

The little town below has changed much over the years.  But the feel and the people remain much the same.

The mountain, ever our friend, has watched over it all.

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