Photo Essays

The Dollywood Express steam locomotive #192 sits at the station before departing on a 2.5 mile journey through the popular amusement park in Tennessee.

Photo Essay: Trains!

Our contributing photographers capture the drama and splendor of mountain excursions.
The Old Mill at Berry College, Mount Berry, Georgia, boasts a 42-foot-diameter iron hub that was moved to the site in the 1930s. The mechanism of the mill was restored to use in 1985 by college staff and students.

Photo Essay: Keeping The Old Ways Alive

Our contributing photographers present the mountains the way they used to be, and still are in spots.
A loud humming sound is heard. The sound is close to that of a bumblebee but much deeper and stronger.  Nearby, a tiny green bird is darting in an erratic manner from flower to flower. Stopping, backing up, moving side to side, the ruby-throated hummingbird finally stops and hovers near a petunia, before injecting his long tongue into the flower.  In only a brief time, he laps up the nectar by using what amounts to a micro-pump tongue. He then retracts his tongue into a special groove, which wraps the tongue around his skull.

Photo Essay: Feathers!

Matt Cuda lives in North Carolina and specializes in nature photography. See much more of his work at mattcuda.com.
Kreiss, intrigued by the contrast between the snow and the road, used his drone to look down on U.S. 421 between Bristol and Damascus,Virginia.

Photo Essay: Jared Kreiss, ‘Light Chaser, Adventure Embracer’

Building a following. Photographer Jared Kreiss captures the mysteries of East Tennessee and beyond.
The Craggy Gardens Pinnacle Trail to the Blue Ridge Parkway overlook is below, with the June bloom of the Catawba Rhododendrons in the foreground.

Photo Essay: Rhodies

Is there a more poignant splash of color in the mountain landscape than the bloom of rhododendron? Dana Foreman’s images suggest perhaps not. See more of her work at dana-foreman.pixels.com.

Departments

Behind Blue Ridge Country

Even More Sweet Virginia Breezes

Casually cruising to Claytor Lake in southwest Virginia, I felt like I had come home – back to where it

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