Solitude

I love the Smoky Mountains.  There’s just something about the Smokies that conjures up images in my mind of simpler times.  Although, when I stop and think about it, I have to wonder if the times really were simpler back then.  The answer is probably not, but I can at least imagine they were.

One of my favorite places in the park is Cades Cove.  The only way to see the Cove is along the 11-mile loop road that runs through it.  The only problem is that it is a very popular destination for a lot of people, so as it gets later in the day, the traffic gets worse and worse.  However, I discovered that if you arrive just before the park rangers open the gate, the traffic is far, far less, and you can take your time and enjoy the peace and quiet that will only last for an hour or, maybe, two before everyone else gets up and makes their way to the Cove.

I discovered this “arrive early” trick quite by accident on my last visit to the Smokies, which I recently realized was nearly 10 years ago.  I got up early one morning, while it was still cool, and made my way to the Cove.  That’s when I discovered there is a gate that is closed in the evenings and not opened until the next morning.  Fortunately, there was a small parking area where maybe five other cars had pulled in to wait as well.  By the time the park ranger arrived to open the gate, there were maybe eight or ten cars waiting, which I didn’t think was all that bad in the grand scheme of things.

That morning, the sky was overcast, and there was a light fog.  All this added to the cove’s quietness.  Occasionally, another car would pass slowly by, but, for the most part, I felt as if I was the only one there.  I was able to take my time, look for interesting scenes to photograph, and just generally enjoy the peacefulness of the morning.

As I drove slowly along the loop road, I noticed the trees had overgrown the road in front of creating a canopy of limbs and leaves, and the fog that was wafting through the trees added to the sense of solitude.  There are numerous areas along the loop to pull over and enjoy the beauty, but, unfortunately, there was no such area along this particular stretch of road.  My only option was to pull off the road as far as I could so any cars that came by would have room to go around.  Fortunately, with so little traffic that early in the morning, that really wasn’t much of a problem.  I set up my camera in the middle of the road, composed and captured the shot, and went on my way.

A few days later after I had gotten back home, I began going through my images.  When I got to this one, I liked the composition, but I just didn’t feel like it conveyed the quietness I experienced that morning as I photographed it.  I tried a couple of different ideas, but nothing seemed to work, and I was beginning to feel a little exasperated.

Although black and white photography was never something I did much of, I always enjoyed looking at a good black and white photograph.  Black and white images always seemed so timeless to me; they could have been made 50 years ago or 50 seconds ago.  When I look at a black and white photograph, it’s as if time has stood still.

Having tried every other option I could think of to no avail, I began to wonder what would happen if I converted this image to black and white.  I had no idea what the result would be, but I didn’t have anything to lose by trying.  As soon as I made the conversion, my excitement returned because the image, I felt, better conveyed the sense of peace and tranquility I felt that morning.

Even today, nearly 10 years since I photographed this scene, I still remember the relaxing solitude I enjoyed that morning as I drove through Cades Cove.

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