I’ve spent the last couple of days at the hospital visiting Adriene and driving back and forth from the hospital and home. On the drive from home to the hospital, I drive around Kennesaw Mountain each time. I find something comforting about seeing the same landmark each and every day. When I moved out to our new home about five years ago one of the things I loved most about where we lived was that it was near the mountain. I often head over there to go running around the base of the mountain for an afternoon jog, or I climb to the top for some vigorous exercise and a nice view of Marietta and the Atlanta skyline. For the last couple of years I’ve dragged my camera up and down the mountain each season, getting pictures of springtime flowers, fall leaves, and city skylines when the leaves are gone in the winter.
I don’t know why I have such a magnetic attraction to the mountain, but it’s not the first mountain I’ve developed such a connection. I grew up in the shadow of Stone Mountain and in college I spent a lot of time winding around the top of Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga. Interesting that all three mountains have Civil War connections (major battles at Lookout Mountain and Kennesaw Mountain and a giant carving on the side of Stone Mountain.) Maybe I have a fondness for Lost Causes. All I know is that when I see the profile of Kennesaw Mountain on the horizon, I know I see home.