A sight that comes and goes

 One more note about Stone Mountain, and then I’ll switch topics for a while: The roads here follow tracks that were made in the days when humans traveled on foot or horseback. They wind through the terrain, which is mostly covered in tall trees.

I grew up in West Texas, where a good view might be 40 miles. Here a view is often more like 40 yards, and often 40 feet. 

And so it is that although Stone Mountain is there, you don’t always see it. I don’t even seen it often.

And then, I’ll round a corner, heading for the coffee shop, and it’s there: a stone face, mostly granite, rising 750 feet above the forest and village. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.