The very first breeze of cool wind grasped our attention indefinitely. Nothing compares to meeting the crisp and fresh mountain air that surrounds this space. Time ceases to be, in a slow motion etiquette, you’re gathered with endless hills of different shades of the same magical green. Pine trees and bushes dwelling peacefully together in a brown estate. The winding roads seem to make the journey longer, as everyone in the fast-moving vehicle becomes restless. Georgia on my mind sneakily seeps through the cracks of the front speakers all while consequently Georgia being on our minds. Excitement still in hand, we compose ourselves at the arrival and try to make sense of our surroundings with ease. Across what seems like narrow unending hills and mountainous space. The atmosphere takes on a different feel, our surroundings become an immense space of vivid colors compared to the washed down hues of Florida’s marshes. Downhill mountain cabins filled with hydrangeas give us the welcome to an unforgettable stay.

Driving down a forward concrete road eventually leads us to meet establishments of what seem to be a half-developed town. In search for the mountains we swerve through and out for what collectedly recalled seems like hours but in reality only took us minutes. After a trial of rock, paper, scissors, we ask for directions, these bring us to unprecedented sights. Once we reached Mt. Yonah we gathered our essentials, amongst these were water, snacks and of course the Canons, then we took off. Rocky steep hills were the toughest climbs of our lives surrounded by nothing more than nature, green leaves and grey rough tree trunks glued to the ground making only peaceful rivalries while we stepped over their standing presence. The pure scent of fresh wind blowing Northside overtook us, distinct smells of nature immersed us in what I imagined magical realism feels like. Uphill rocks and stones blocked the natural pathway already made, making hikers work double to get to the peek. All this effort was well rewarded when coming across the first sight. Any human views from a mountain peek are recognizable only by the movement of larger buildings and constructions of their doing which are hardly available in isolated mountains such as these. Finding an open rocky field, we were able to peek through the heights of mother nature, as we sat watching the distant hills become nothing more than silhouettes of dark hues of blue surrounded by fields of green.

Yet somehow in all this isolation and beauty we found ourselves repeatedly staring at our gadgets. Funny pocket devices who rule almost every waking day of our millennial lifestyle. Desperately gathering together for pictures to never forget ourselves or let anyone else forget what it felt like and looked like to experience a grand mountainous town for the very first time. The epidemic of the millennials is this. Transporting ourselves is difficult enough but having someone else live through our experiences is what we crave, this sense of sharing and gaining the world by a simple image that becomes a reflection of your feelings and experiences at this very moment in fragile time. Drive-bys will have a distinct taste now, a perceptive memory in the back of a disquiet brain. Forever connecting this sensation of a pastime with a feeling. Hopping time and space with a single memory, a single image engraved in the back of our minds and our phones. Connecting every breeze, every smell of fresh air, every soft spoken ripple of a waterfall. When the breeze blows cold or the trees shift a certain way, the smell of brand new earth transports you to an exact moment where magic was felt.