Have you ever heard someone say, “spring is in the air?” I have and I know that fragrance by heart. Step outside today and you’ll catch it instantly: the crisp green scent of freshly cut grass, the soft sweetness of blossoms stretching awake, the earth itself exhaling after a long winter’s rest. And if it hasn’t quite reached your doorstep yet, wander to your nearest park. I promise you’ll find spring’s handiwork on full display.
When I was a little girl, my parents often took my siblings and me hiking. Ten children in total- a lively parade, often times wearing matching clothes, winding through trails low and high in the rolling hills of Tennessee. Summer after summer, they returned to the Blue Ridge Mountains, never tiring of their quiet majesty. They chose, again and again, to invest in time together—disconnecting from the noise of the world to be fully present with us.
And though raising a family that large could have easily pulled their attention in a hundred directions, they were intentional. They didn’t just tell us to love the outdoors, they showed us how.
On those trails, my mom would pause us every so often, her voice full of wonder: “Stop. Take a deep breath. Do you smell that?”
We’d inhale deeply, curious and still.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she’d say, smiling.
That’s when I learned that scent can have color, that a breath can paint a memory.
Even now, when I close my eyes and breathe deeply, I’m carried back. The air wraps around me in a gentle swirl of cool and warmth. The rich scent of damp earth rises up- alive, grounding, full. It’s the smell of something growing, something good. Moments like these don’t just pass through me, they fill me. They nourish both body and soul.
What about you?
When you close your eyes and take a deep breath, what do you see?
Are you transported somewhere familiar?
Do long forgotten images begin to flicker back to life?
For me, nature is a creative playground. It offers space, generous and quiet, for thoughts too soft to survive the noise of everyday life to speak. It is a friend that is always changing. Some seasons arrive bright, warm, and bursting with color. Others come in muted tones, cold, still, and shadowed.
But every season, in its own way, carries something good.
The beauty is in how we choose to see it.
What we notice, what we interpret, these shape not only our perspective, but our emotions. So stay grounded in what is real. Be mindful of the weight you place on moments, on people, on yourself.
Breathe in.
Be grateful.
And choose to see the good.
Today, we traded routine for adventure and set out for Old Man’s Cave – a place that never fails to feel both familiar and new. Just an hour’s drive from home, it’s the perfect distance for a day of adventure.
With a cooler packed full of picnic favorites and shoes ready for winding trails and uneven stone, we chased the promise of a day outdoors. The sun stretched higher as we arrived, the morning clouds slowly giving way, wrapping everything in that golden warmth that hints at a perfect hiking day.
Before the trails called our names, we paused. At the top of a hill, we found a picnic table overlooking the parking lot, with a clear view of State Route 664. It wasn’t a grand overlook, but it was ours for the moment- a place to sit, laugh, refuel, and watch the world pass by. Simple moments like that somehow make the adventure feel fuller.
Then, with full bellies, we made our way to the trails. One of the beautiful things about this area is how it all connects- a six-mile journey weaving through Old Man’s Cave, Cedar Falls, and Ash Cave. But for our crew, tradition leads us to begin at the Upper Falls.
The trail welcomed us with the gentle rush of water. The Upper Falls came into view like something out of a painting- water cascading gracefully into a clear pool below, framed by rugged sandstone cliffs and early hints of spring greenery. It’s the kind of place that invites you to pause… to listen… to breathe a little deeper.
From there, we followed the path to one of the most fascinating stops along the way, Devil’s Bathtub. Over thousands of years, water has carved this smooth, swirling basin into the rock, creating a natural whirlpool that feels almost otherworldly. Watching the water spiral downward, it’s easy to see how it earned its mysterious name.
Further along, the trail led us to the A-Frame Bridge. Nestled naturally into the landscape, its structure stretches across the gorge like a quiet invitation to cross. There’s something charming about it- simple, rustic, and perfectly at home among the trees and flowing stream below.
And then, finally, we arrived at Old Man’s Cave itself. By afternoon, the sunlight filters in just right, illuminating the rock walls and casting a warm glow across the space. It’s not a cave in the traditional sense, but a recess carved by time, an overhanging cliff that once sheltered Richard Rowe, the person it’s named after. Standing there, you can almost feel the history layered into the stone.
Moments like these- shared steps, laughter on the trail, the quiet awe of nature are what make days like this linger long after they’re over. Sometimes the best adventures aren’t the farthest away… just the ones you choose to take.
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