For those of us who cherish our visits to Asheville, North Carolina, the city’s devastation after the Helen incident is a stark reminder that fall, a hallmark of Asheville’s annual calendar, will be a very different season this year. .
Like thousands of other tourists, including some from Louisiana, I have flocked to Asheville and the surrounding area for years to see the fall foliage. With the Blue Ridge Mountains and their trees towering over every vantage point, Asheville’s fall pageant provides a canvas that no human artist could match.
As I parked at one of the many observation decks along the Blue Ridge Parkway, I felt a lump of emotion rise in my throat and my eyes water. Those experiences began nearly 40 years ago, when I was a young reporter who went to the mountains to get relief from daily deadlines. The pilgrimage continued even after he got married and became a father. Our trips are now family events.
The first few visits I had trouble putting a name to what I was feeling. But as I get older, when I admire the mountains every October, I notice not just their brilliance but also their shadows, the passing clouds that lay specks of deep black on the browns, reds, and oranges that grace the landscape. I now understand that people are also fascinated by it. The scenery reminded us that true joy can inspire us because we can touch even the shadows.
It’s evident in the color change along the Blue Ridge each year, a miracle that occurs as the trees lose their green color and prepare for a long winter’s sleep. The result is a spectacular decline, lasting proof that beauty and loss can always accompany each other in any life.
This fall has brought new connections to the mysteries of that strange existence. The suffering caused by Hurricane Milton in Florida, another popular vacation destination for Louisiana residents, is feeling like the loss of a family member. I know that people outside of Louisiana faced this contradiction after Hurricane Katrina. How could New Orleans, a comfortable getaway for so many tourists, suffer such an epic tragedy?
I started thinking about all of this as the good people of Asheville began their long journey of recovery from the terrible storm. Many of the residents are newcomers to Asheville, attracted by its beauty. Now they face ruin and sorrow, a challenge shared by all those touched by Helen and Milton. What Americans are suffering this year in some of the world’s greatest places reveals a harsh truth. This means that every paradise on earth has its challenges, and that we must summon the best in ourselves to counter the worst of nature’s wrath.
As I watched the coverage of this fall’s storms, I felt a familiar lump rise in my throat. The courage of the survivors has shown us that even in the deepest shadows, there is a way to overcome life.
Email Danny Heitman at danny@danyheitman.com.
