Stony Man

The views went on forever. The Blue Ridge that appears first as a smudge on the horizon driving west from D.C. became a green and glorious reality late Monday during a brief trip to Sperryville and environs.
The hike to the Stony Man viewpoint was uphill enough to get our hearts pumping but not so rigorous that we couldn’t talk along the way. We passed some through-hikers, serious folks with heavy packs. But we were there for the visiting and the views.
I often find myself in the park around this time of year, mountain laurel season. And there was some of that on Monday, too. But what will remain with me is sitting on warm rocks with friends, catching up, looking west and south: the light green of trees with leaves newer than those at sea level mixing with darker firs and pines. Beyond the trees the hills rose ever bluer and more distant, less distinct, until it was impossible to know whether I was looking at earth or sky.