Phil Francis

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Phil Francis’ career with the National Park Service spans 34 years and includes assignments at Shenandoah, Yosemite and Great Smoky Mountains national parks and the Southwest Regional Office in Santa Fe, N.M. Last November, he became superintendent of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

“The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.” —Marcel Proust

Complacent about what we love. One of the greatest joys of my career has been to become acquainted with so many of the 388 areas that comprise our National Park System. I’ve worked at a few, served on extended details at several, and visited the biggest majority of the others. It’s a wonderful, even awe-inspiring system that preserves the defining moments and events in America’s history and the very best of our scenic and natural wonders.

Sometimes the people who seem most appreciative of those wonders are those who come from cities and communities more distant, not those who live next door. I’ve seen it in the storied parks of the west and in those celebrated parks much closer to my native North Carolina home. It’s so important that we not become complacent about those places we’ve come to love.

In candor, I have been guilty of that. In recent months, I have been rediscovering the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s a place I have known since childhood, having visited with my family more times than I can count. And I have worked at the two great parks that it links, Shenandoah and Great Smoky Mountains. I was always confident that I fully appreciated the scenery and that I knew at least the essential natural and human history of this 469-mile corridor.

Wrong.

Appreciation – with an exclamation point. My recent education has inspired a much deeper appreciation.

I have always said that the parkway is a great place. I still say that. It’s just that now, in my mind’s eye, an exclamation point has replaced a period.

I wish to share my new-found excitement, which is why I now challenge every past visitor who thinks he or she knows the parkway to come again and to hike a trail never before taken or, for that matter, to simply park at an overlook, take a deep breath and look, as Proust said, with new eyes. Of course, you don’t have to wait until you come here. Look at your own neighborhood, the next time you’re driving home from work, think about the richness of the world that is your daily universe. Even in a traffic jam, those of us who are fortunate to call the southern Appalachians home can look around at embracing peaks and be comforted by things that aren’t so vexing or so transitory.

A recognition. Selfishly, I would like to think that renewed appreciation would lead at least a few folks to think about how valuable the Blue Ridge Parkway is. With luck, maybe some will be inspired to join one of our partner groups and become actively involved in volunteering, fundraising and view protection.

We are fortunate, indeed, to have many partners, among them the Friends of the Blue Ridge Parkway, which takes the lead in our volunteer efforts; the Blue Ridge Parkway Foundation, which raises funds to help us do some of those much-needed things that our shrinking budget won’t, and dedicated land conservation groups, including the Western Virginia Land Trust and the Conservation Trust for North Carolina, both committed to preserving views from encroaching development.

Beyond boundaries. At the least, I believe that a renewed and deeper appreciation of our parks and our own communities will promote a greater sense of our responsibility to be thoughtful stewards, no matter where we call home or where we like to travel. The benefits of that would go far, far beyond the boundaries of the Blue Ridge Parkway or even its most distant peaks.