field notes from —

The Great Smoky Mountains

Cades Cove & Townsend · Tennessee

I grew up in the shadow of these mountains, and I have been coming back my whole life. My earliest memories are here, wading into the cold creeks looking for crawdads and salamanders, watching rhododendron blossoms drift past like little sailboats on the sea. Randy and I brought our own kids before they could walk. Zack learned to ride his bike without training wheels in Cades Cove campground. We have pitched tents with friends who had never camped, ridden the eleven-mile loop at dawn, poked through the old cabins and churches, and spent afternoons doing nothing more ambitious than sitting near a mountain stream where it crosses the road, watching the kids splash through the water again and again on their bikes. Cades Cove is the place my family keeps returning to, and the place that inspires me to paint every time.

Blossoms drifting past like little sailboats on the sea.

The Smokies are the most-visited national park in the country, so a little planning goes a long way. Spring brings the wildflowers and the dogwood; by June the rhododendron and mountain laurel are blooming and the synchronous fireflies put on their show at Elkmont. Summer is lush and green and busy. October turns the whole range into orange, red, and yellow. Those fall weekends are the most crowded of all. There is no fee to enter, but every parked car now needs a Park it Forward tag, so pick one up before you go in.

Cades Cove is the heart of it for us. Drive the loop at sunrise and sunset for peak wildlife viewing, or ride it by bike, and give yourself far more time than eleven miles would suggest. There are 4-mile and 8-mile cut-offs. Between the bear jams and the wildlife photographers, a slow lap can stretch to hours, and honestly that is part of the pleasure. On summer Wednesdays the loop closes to cars all day for cyclists and walkers. We typically camp in the park, but you can set up base in nearby Townsend, the peaceful side, only minutes from the loop. Gatlinburg, over on the other side, has all the restaurants and bustle you could want.

I put together a few sample itineraries to help you plan. Even at three days, you could easily fill five.

View the sample itinerary → Accessible itinerary →

Here's a map of the area.

Cades Cove Loop · Townsend · Great Smoky Mountains, Tennessee

The Sinks, on the Little River, is where our kids learned to be brave. There is a deep green pool below the falls and a rock that local kids have been leaping from for generations. Randy still jumps it. I mostly hold the camera and my breath. We know the water can be dangerous, so we watch it closely and pick our days, but that pool is stitched into every summer we have spent here. You'll meet it again below, in a painting called jump!

These blue hills raised me, and they keep pulling my whole family back. As long as I can hold a brush, I will be painting Cades Cove.

painting one —

Into the Light

Oil on wood panel, 18 × 24 × 1.5 inches, self-framed with dark, stained wood

The kids love to ride their bikes on the 4-mile loop. It's a gravel road called Sparks Lane that cuts across the valley, where they get to ride through the water when Abrams Creek crosses the road. There is a place to pull off and park if you're in a vehicle, and just beyond lies this scene.

When looking at it, not only do I see lovely Cades Cove, but I hear my kids squealing with laughter as they ride back and forth through the cold water. Happy days. Simple pleasures. Joy and gratitude.

I hope that you have already been there. If not, I'm giving you the information to stand in this spot. Want the GPS coordinates? 35.603689, -83.793787. My artwork is created to take you there every time you see it.

I framed it with the dark trunks the way you actually come upon it, stepping out of the woods into all that space. I self-framed the panel in dark, stained wood so that nothing competes with the light.

Into the Light — oil painting of the Cades Cove meadow seen through dark tree trunks, sunlit green grass opening to blue and violet mountains under a bright sky

Detail of Into the Light — brushwork on the sunlit meadow and distant ridgeline — up close — light dragged across the grass

Edge of Into the Light — the dark, stained wood the panel is self-framed with — the self-framed edge, in stained wood

Into the Light hanging in a home interior — in a room, holding the whole cove

painting two —

Glimmer of Hope

Oil on wood panel, 12 × 12 inches unframed · 16 × 16 inches framed

Some mornings the whole cove is under fog, and the mountain is just a soft blue suggestion above the wildflowers. We got an early start riding our bikes around the loop. As the mist lifted, I took this shot and painted it to remind us of those hushed, hopeful mornings, when the light had not yet decided what kind of day it would be.

Cades Cove is both open, bright meadows filled with flowers, and dark, cool forest with babbling streams. To celebrate both, I have made a companion, Abrams Creek. The two of them are the same size and have the same spirit, meant to hang together or apart.

Glimmer of Hope — oil painting of a misty blue Smoky Mountain rising softly above a green meadow scattered with white wildflowers

Glimmer of Hope shown in its frame — framed and ready to hang

Glimmer of Hope installed in a home interior — a small window onto a foggy morning

painting three —

Abrams Creek

Oil on wood panel, 12 × 12 inches unframed · 16 × 16 inches framed

My memories of Cades Cove Picnic Area go waaaaay back. The campground sits right across from it, but we didn't camp there until I was an adult, because as a child, we lived nearby. Between the two, Abrams Creek tumbles down through the rocks with mountain laurel leaning in from the bank. Here, I waded as a child, lifting rocks looking for crawdads. I can still hear the waterfall in the distance.

If you haven't already, go make memories in Cades Cove and bring a picnic. The waterfall is near here: GPS 35.604472, -83.770222. This painting is the companion piece to Glimmer of Hope.

Abrams Creek — oil painting of a small waterfall and clear stream tumbling over sunlit boulders, blooming mountain laurel on the right bank

Detail of Abrams Creek — brushwork on the falling water and wet stone — detail — where the water goes white

Abrams Creek installed in a home interior — a cool green corner in a room

painting four —

jump!

Oil on wood, 24 × 32 inches unframed · 36 × 44 inches framed · The Sinks, Little River

The highway crosses back and forth across the river in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Don't miss the waterfall called The Sinks! GPS 35.669232, -83.662122. Pull off and stay awhile, if you can find parking. Danger signs are posted in several places, warning about the undertow of the falls, which roars.

Still, it is a favorite spot for the family to have adventures. Literally, a jumping-off point for tubing trips down the river. I remember summoning the courage to jump from the cliff into water so cold that it takes your breath away. Now I just record the boys and Randy taking the plunge. It's a rite of passage. The detail shot shows Nick encouraging his dad to jump. The cliff is located to the left, out of view in this scene, but we know what happened, and I got lots of pics.

A painting can capture a moment and transport you back again every time you see it. That's the point, to make you feel something. I smile every time I see this. Since this painting is claimed, what moment would you like to revisit again and again?

Jump — oil painting of The Sinks on the Little River, pale sun-bleached boulders around a deep bottle-green pool, whitewater spilling in from the right, small figures climbing the rocks. A red dot marks this painting as sold.

Detail of Jump — brushwork on the whitewater and wet stone — detail — Nick, encouraging his dad to jump

Jump installed in a home interior — in the home that took it in

Four boys out on the massive gray boulders above the pool at The Sinks, picking their way across the sunlit rock — out on the boulders

Two boys standing on a rock ledge above a green river pool, leaning over to look at the water below — how far down is it, really?

Randy caught mid-air, jumping feet-first off the ledge toward the river pool, a girl watching from the rock above — far enough. Randy shows them how.

painting five —

Broken

Oil on wood panel, 16 × 20 inches unframed

Almost everybody stops halfway around the loop at the old mill area, where there is lots of parking, restrooms, a homestead, a grist mill, and a visitors center. It is a hub of activity. GPS 35.583110, -83.844222.

What most visitors don't know is that behind all of that, through the tangled mountain laurel, is a beautiful forest where all you can hear is the sound of the stream. This scene unfolded before me and seemed so magical. We were going through a tough time financially, and I felt broken. I had brought the family back to the mountains because it mends my soul, and here I saw an old log with the sun shining on its brokenness like angelic healing. It moved me to tears. It was spring, a time for renewal and repair. Everything was going to be alright.

Broken — oil painting of an early-spring forest creek with a fallen log spanning the water, bare purple-brown trees and the first green sprouting along the banks

Detail of Broken — brushwork on the fallen log and moving water — detail — the log and the light on the water

Broken installed in a home interior — in a room, early spring on the wall

painting six —

Bold

Oil on wood panel, 22 × 13 inches framed

October in the Smokies does not whisper. This stand of maples went scarlet and gold against the dark trunks, with a glint of the creek behind, and I painted it as boldly as it presented itself. It has since found a home.

You can see it in person at the Sugarlands Visitor Center, GPS 35.68579, -83.53677, just as you enter the park from Gatlinburg.

Bold — tall vertical oil painting of an autumn forest, brilliant scarlet foliage in the middle ground and a golden canopy above, a stream glinting between dark trunks. A red dot marks this painting as sold.

Bold installed in a home interior — living with all that autumn

painting seven —

Exhale

Oil on wood panel, 7 × 7 inches unframed · 8 × 8 inches framed

A small, close study of moving water over mossy stone, the kind of spot you kneel beside and forget the time. It is only seven inches square, painted to be lived with up close. Exhale and Magic are a matched pair, two small breaths from the same walk along Abrams Creek, between the Cades Cove Picnic Area and the campground. GPS 35.605215, -83.773709.

Exhale — small square oil painting of silvery water rushing over dark, moss-covered rocks in a mountain creek

Exhale shown in its frame — framed, small enough to keep close

Reference photo — a rushing Smoky Mountain creek over mossy boulders — the creek that became Exhale

painting eight —

Magic