SCRAPS AND SCRIBBLES
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photography
On a rainy spring day this year, I passed through Wales and stopped at Cardiff Violins’ shop in Castle Arcade with a group of friends. It was beautiful, atmospheric, and felt like it had fallen a little outside the normal passage of time. In the best of ways.
My boyfriend's family have a long and storied connection to the small mountain town of Saluda, North Carolina. Every now and then - as we did this past October - we make a trip up there to see the mountain house, grab a bite at the Purple Onion, hike some trails, and take in the views. And oh, what dramatic and moody views those can be:
The mountains in the early morning. Photo by Nathaniel Haley.
Saluda sits nestled between low mountains, their peaks and planes softened by lush foliage that lights up with incredible color in the fall. I believe my boyfriend thinks of Saluda as his wilderness retreat: a place where he and his dad ride motorcycles, hang out with foresters, and get unplugged for a little while. I think of it as my own artist-retreat-that-never-was -- as if, in another life on another timeline, I am a novelist who churns out her best work while sitting on a hardwood deck overlooking a Saluda gorge.
I lounged around in my trusty LL Bean boots...
And hung out with a pony - and even rode one. (Photo by Nathaniel Haley.)
Though I got a moderate case of cabin fever to show for it, in theory Saluda & its environs are probably best experienced at a slow, flexible pace -- one that lets you befriend the woods and creeks around you.
To that end we took on the (easiest) 1400-step Chimney Rock trail, explored the paths up and down the family mountain, and made some time for late-night star photography.
The steep steps of Chimney Rock. Photo: Nathaniel Haley.
On at least 3 separate nights, there were s'mores involved.
Night walks with Nathan.
One of my favorite places to linger and shoot photos is the area around the Saluda Grade & Main Street. The Grade is, as the historical plaque nearby likes to remind us, the "steepest standard-gauge mainline railway grade in the United States." It no longer operates, and now serves a second life (in my mind) as an excellent place to sit and enjoy the diffuse and warm late afternoon sunlight the town gets.
On the Grade. Jacket by All Saints Spitalfields, flannel by Abercrombie & Fitch. Photo: Nathaniel Haley.
The recurring food theme of the trip was beets. I'm not sure why. Maybe they're easily locally sourced? I must've eaten my weight in (very photogenic) beets and kale over the course of the week.
The Purple Onion.
And oh, the Blue Ridge Parkway.
Photo by Nathaniel Haley.
A trip to the Carolinas is really not complete without taking advantage of the scenic overlooks that dot the length of this iconic highway.
On the last full day of our trip, we hopped down to Asheville to tour Biltmore House, the Vanderbilts' sprawling 19th century estate.
Apparently it is permanently Christmas there. Either that or the property managers thought early October would be a totally fine & sensical time to whip out the holiday decor. I'm not complaining - greenery and lights pair well with high ceilings and luxurious digs.
What I do take issue with, though, is how unfairly gorgeous the scenery behind the palatial house is. What am I supposed to do with the fact that obscene amounts of money allow people to hoard views like this? It's a good job the estate wound up open to the public, or you and I would live our lives never having the opportunity to see all this:
Photo: Nathaniel Haley.
Two of my favorite people from college currently live and study in Cambridge, MA, where they are working on PhDs at Harvard. I last saw them in November '15 and thought it might be lovely to see the northeast at the end of summer, where it bleeds ever so slightly into fall.
One of my hosts is a darling redheaded chef with a predilection for casually sharing funny snippets from Louisiana life...as well as for canning his own fruits and veggies. That is just how together his life is. Meanwhile here I am, forgetting about moldy nectarines in my fridge and having to throw them out.
I've been to Boston something like 5 times in my life and had never so much as set foot in the Beacon Hill area until now. It has a frozen-in-time kind of sedate charm.
I always love a night walk. Especially in cities, beneath twinkling lights and hard angles.
In the city we met up with an old high school friend of mine, enjoyed a few Wahlburgers (I could not resist - the name was just too good), & helped my hosts shop for a fancy new duvet cover at West Elm (expressions of domestic excitement not pictured).
The House of Seven Gables.
On Saturday we got a little group together and did something a little different - we rented a Mini Cooper (adorable despite being daubed with mysteriously orange bird poop) and took a short road trip up to Salem, home of Nathaniel Hawthorne as well as those infamous witch trials.
We took a short tour of the House of Seven Gables & its grounds and got to scale a few sets of creaky, wooden stairs leading to hidden halls and rooms.
Salem brought us near the sprawling Devereux Beach, where we unpacked a picnic we had...well, overpacked that afternoon.
Always love an excuse to wear this crop top, yusss.
