A long walk on a short trail in search of Peace of Mind | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Last Sunday I took a walk with two of my oldest friends who live in the same neighborhood as I. There are many nature trails in my retirement community and we took our walk on one of them. One of our nature clubs monitors the trails condition and there are volunteer days to maintain and clean up. Tabs identify some of the trees with numbers, which help find a description of the type and history of the tree in question. The topography of Deaton Creek is rolling hills with multiple streams. The builders (Pulte) incorporated the nature trails into the overall design of the neighborhood. My friend's wife is the neighborhood photography and created these collages of our day on the trails and pond.


    According to my Fit-Bit wrist monitor, the walk was about two miles. It encompassed hills and bridges over streams. It took us about two hours to make the circular trip on this one trail and the visit to the fishing pond. It is a short distance but we took our time which made for a long walk. That is why I chose the title to this article. Slowing down to smell the roses was never part of my persona and has been late coming to me.

    We ended up at the stocked fishing lake where many people take their grand kids to fish when they come to visit. The lake is a "Catch and Release" lake. It has an automatic fish feeder powered by battery and recharged by a solar cell. There were several kids there with their grandfather. They were fishing, and flying a kite. A couple of more were in a rubber raft floating and fishing in the lake. There is no swimming in the lake, but it reminded me of the carefree days of childhood and young adulthood. My friend in this picture and I were solely responsible for the "No Swimming" signs on the lake at Stone Mountain. Before the state park was officially opened to the public we often had beer parties and swam in the lake. Sometimes with suits and sometimes sans suits. After numerous encounters with the park police, the signs went up and tickets were issued. I would like to think that the sign at our lake was just a coincidence but it is possible that they recognized our names on the deed papers and decided to head us off at the pass.



    It also came to mind that my neighborhood is just an aged-extension of the singles club apartments of my youth. The exception being that today it is a couples and widowers club neighborhood. The friendship and comradery is still there but it has mellowed from wild parties, to wine and nostalgia shows.

    I am a reclusive soul living in an active community. With all the activities available for my use, I am also free to just live and perhaps offer a casual wave to a neighbor as I see them. One might think that with such small lots, there is the feeling that you are in a chicken coop. It took a bit of time to adjust but it feels more open than it would appear. Like all groups of people, they are diverse and often a bit gruff with each other. Strong opinions come with age, I suppose. But the neighborhood is large enough (approximately 1200 homes) that each person can find a group that closely mirrors their interest. Or perhaps, like me just live peacefully without interference. We all seem to get along fairly well, not counting my non-compliance letters. Even the trees have learned to share the same space.Some are numbered for identification. Blue Tabs enlarged in inset. See right.

    I often joke about the neighborhood and the covenants, but in fact, I chose to live here because most of the yard maintenance is included in the association dues and my friends also live here. It is comfortable, safe, and still has the feel of a rural area even though the houses are almost identical and the lots are small. It is located forty-five miles northeast of Atlanta with close access to I85. Development in the area is moderate and the countryside still has large farms and pastures are still in evidence. Just behind my house is a pasture with cows which add to the peaceful with their mooing. It has the added benefit that it is less than 1/2 mile from a hospital, recently built to support this growing area of both old and young. A new wing to the hospital is due to open on the Fall allowing the hospital to begin offering obstetric services to the community. It will not be long before the traffic becomes overbearing.

   Our neighborhood is now completed and Pulte is in the process of moving out. It will be interesting to see if the the residents can still manage to get along when we are charged with the management of the HOA. We just had an election but the results have not been announced. I did not run for office and will not serve if elected, but I doubt there is any chance of that. My buddy and his wife who are very active in the community tell me that I have successfully managed to project the   Grumpy Old Man Image. Click here to see it  


   One of my biggest problems in life is my rebellion against authority. This has been a big adjustment since moving into this area. Thses ares just a few of the signs. I realize that we seniors sometime lose out way but don't you think this is just a bit too much?
    Most of my life I had a dream of living on five to ten acres where I could hibernate from the world. I have found that I can do that here without the necessity of maintenance of acreage. It was my dad's dream and he somewhat achieved it in his five acre plot in Dekalb county during the 1960s when the area was still full of dairy farms. Of course, now Dekalb County is more concrete than pastures. Such is the transformation of suburbia in the Atlanta area. My son may have inherited dad's and my wish as he recently built a house on ten acres in Whitesburg, Georgia, which is still mostly rural. However, he is thirty-six years younger than I am and still climbing the upward side of the mountain. I am on the downside coasting toward the valley in no particular hurry.

   I discovered what my mother knew all along. The peace of mind you seek is not your location, money, or station in life It is within your soul and has always been there waiting for you to discover it. It took seventy years, but I think I may have a clue now.

   For those of you who made it this far in the article, I think you for your patience. Perhaps you too can find some Peace of Mind. I have the wooden sign that hung on the family garden for many years. It is weathered and worn. The wording is from the last verse "The Lord God planted a Garden" by Dorothy Frances Gurney. It was one of my mother's favorite poems. It is written in my dad's handwriting and created with his router. I have often thought about restoring it but have preferred to leave it old and worn. Like people it has developed a character of its own and is a reminder of the family garden of my youth. Here is the link to that post.

The Lord God Planted a Garden. --------------------------------------------------------------------

Additional links below

   Google Map view of Deaton Creek
   DelWebb Community
   The Three Amigo's
   One of the trails at Deaton Creek