by Karon -

Trolls: A Field Study — A Whimsical Adventure at the North Carolina Arboretum

After my time in Hendersonville, I made a quick stop in Asheville to visit something I’ve been quietly excited about ever since I first heard the news: Trolls: A Field Study, the newest traveling exhibit by Danish recycle-artist Thomas Dambo. I’ve seen four of his giant 30-foot forest trolls on this trip — quirky, gentle giants tucked into woods across the U.S. and around the world — but this exhibit is different. These trolls are his “Baby Trolls”, standing only seven to nine feet tall… small by troll standards, but every bit as magical.

A Field Study of Us — Through Troll Eyes

The exhibit tells a story:
On the night he was born, a little troll named Taks wandered into the human world. What he saw surprised him — noisy machines, people rushing, screens glowing everywhere, and almost no one stopping to talk to the trees. When he returned to the forest, he shared his discoveries with his eleven siblings, and together they set out on a mission to study humankind.

That’s the heart of Trolls: A Field Study — twelve whimsical troll sculptures exploring the grounds of the North Carolina Arboretum from November 15, 2025 through February 17, 2026. Each troll has its own personality, posture, and curiosity. And each one is hand-built from reclaimed materials — fallen branches, pallets, twigs, and scraps that Dambo transforms into something imaginative and alive.

There’s so much joy in wandering the paths and stumbling upon them. Some lean in as if listening. Some peer through wooden binoculars. Some crouch quietly, observing. They’re playful, thoughtful, and just a little mischievous.

The Baby Trolls (And Why They’re Special)

Most of Dambo’s trolls around the world are towering, 20- to 30-foot forest guardians tucked into wild places. But these “Baby Trolls” were designed as part of an interactive, family-friendly experience. They’re still large and impressive — especially when you turn a corner and suddenly find one studying you — but they feel more approachable, as if they wandered just far enough from home to be curious.

An Unexpected Treasure Hunt

One of the most fascinating parts of this exhibit is the hidden layer of adventure woven into it. Each troll has a symbol, and if you collect all of the symbols from the twelve trolls in Asheville plus a couple of symbols from other Dambo troll locations in North Carolina, you can complete a sort of treasure map that leads to The Grandmother Tree.

I didn’t have time to do the full symbol hunt — I was only able to stop for a quick visit — but I love the idea of it. A slow-travel scavenger hunt, a bit of whimsy for adults and kids alike, and a reminder that exploration is always rewarded for those who linger a little longer. If you’re in the area for a few days (or traveling through multiple NC towns), this would be such a fun experience.

A Gentle, Playful Reminder

What I love most about Dambo’s work is that it always carries a message, and this exhibit is no exception. These trolls — made from recycled materials — invite us to see the world differently. To look up more. To wander slower. To return to the kind of curiosity we had as kids, when finding something unexpected on a trail felt like magic.

And in a world that often feels busy and fast, it felt grounding to walk among them, even briefly.

If You Go

Location:
The North Carolina Arboretum, Asheville, NC

Dates:
November 15, 2025 – February 17, 2026

What to Expect:

  • 12 Baby Troll sculptures
  • Gentle walking paths
  • Kid– and adult-friendly exploration
  • Symbol-hunting “field study” opportunity
  • Beautiful forest and garden surroundings
  • Peak whimsy

Whether you’re visiting Asheville for a day or exploring Western North Carolina for a season, Trolls: A Field Study is absolutely worth adding to your list.

by Karon -

Embracing My Inner Hippie

Penny Lane, one of Brevard’s most delightfully eclectic hippie shops.

For most of my life, I never would’ve described myself as a hippie.

But not too long ago, when I was teaching 3rd grade, my principal introduced me to someone as “a hippie in disguise.” I remember smiling politely while a little surprised by his words.

On the outside, I was the picture of conservative, school-appropriate professionalism. I’d spent many years as an art teacher—yet even then, I dressed in dark colors, the kind that help you blend into the background when you’re an introvert and carrying extra weight you don’t want to draw attention to. Part of me longed for paint-splattered overalls and colorful, breezy clothes… but I hid behind layers meant to camouflage rather than express.

Still, his words stuck with me. They made me pause. Reflect. Consider.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized… maybe he saw something I hadn’t acknowledged in myself.

Because while I wasn’t a “traditional” hippie, my life had always carried that quiet undercurrent of earthy, artsy freedom. I loved color, texture, music of every kind. My classrooms were often filled with branches—sometimes painted in bright hues, sometimes left natural and wild—stretching overhead like a tiny forest.

As a kid in the ’60s, I watched the true hippies from a distance while I played with dolls. By the time I hit my teens in the ’70s, we were wearing bell-bottom hip-huggers and burning incense, but by then it was mostly just a fashion trend—one that quickly gave way to disco balls and parachute pants.

But I think what truly shaped his impression was a conversation we’d had about grounding.

Grounding—or earthing—is simply reconnecting with the Earth’s natural electric charge. For me, it began accidentally. I always felt drawn to beaches and could walk barefoot in the sand for hours, feeling calmer, clearer, more alive than I could explain. Later, I learned there was actual science behind it: walking barefoot on grass, sand, or soil allows your body to absorb the Earth’s free electrons. It restores something. It resets something. It heals something.

And without ever meaning to, grounding became one of the most natural rhythms of my life.

On my recent trip to North Carolina, I stumbled upon a baseball cap that simply said tree hugger. A little voice inside whispered, Buy it. So I did.


The funny thing is—I don’t actually hug trees. But I do place my hands on them. It’s something I began doing when I lived in Japan, where many ancient trees are honored and protected. I once watched an elderly woman gently touch the bark of a sacred tree at a temple, a handmade rope wrapped around its wide trunk. There was tenderness in the way she made contact, reverence even. Watching her gave me a quiet kind of permission.


Now, on my hikes, I often pause and put my hands on the bark of old trees—the coolness, the texture, the steady presence. I understand now that it’s another form of grounding, another way of connecting. And wearing that little hat feels like a nod to a part of myself I’ve grown to love.

Add to that my long-held desire to travel full-time… maybe even in a camper van someday… and I suppose the pieces start to form a picture. Not the wild, flower-crowned stereotype of a hippie, but a quieter version—someone drawn to the earth, to beauty, to freedom, to color, to experiences over things.

So maybe my principal was right.

Maybe I was a hippie in disguise.

Or maybe, over time, I’ve simply grown into the parts of myself that were always there—waiting for permission, waiting for space, waiting for me to stop hiding and start becoming.

Maybe this is the season I finally embrace her.

– Kari

by Karon -

Western North Carolina: A Mountain Getaway of Charm, Color, and Quiet Wonder

My time in Western North Carolina felt like slipping into a familiar, comforting rhythm — a mix of mountain air, small-town charm, and the kind of slow wandering that lets you really see a place. This region has long been one of my favorites, and once again, it didn’t disappoint. I split my visit between Hendersonville and Brevard, two towns close together yet each with its own personality.

Hendersonville was my first stop. It’s nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, wrapped in soft ridges and shifting layers of color depending on the time of day. The town has grown since the girls’ trip I took here a few years back — more people, more energy — yet the historic downtown still holds the same charm I remembered. Local shops and friendly faces make you feel like you’ve been there before.

I spent an afternoon wandering Main Street, visiting shops and art galleries at an easy pace. Nothing rushed — just the quiet pleasure of browsing and discovering. I made a short trip to DuPont State Recreational Forest to see Hooker Falls, a gentle hike filled with that clean forest scent you can only get in the mountains. The falls were peaceful, and I lingered there, letting the sound of water become a kind of meditation.

There were still things I didn’t get to — Bearwallow Mountain, the Blue Ghost Fireflies that light up the woods in late spring, Jump Off Rock, Chimney Rock, the town of Flat Rock, and so many more hikes and waterfalls. Transylvania County alone has around 250 waterfalls, so I’ve only just begun to explore what this area has to offer. Plenty of reasons to come back.

A short drive away, Brevard offered a different kind of inspiration. Known for its artsy spirit and temperate rainforest climate, the town has a creative heartbeat that shows up everywhere. It’s also home to the famous white squirrels — little flashes of white that locals adore — though they remained as elusive as the fireflies on this visit. Still, their presence is felt in murals, artwork, and local stories.

Part of what made this stay unique is that it doubled as my first official pet sit — something I’ve started incorporating into my travels. It’s a gentle, practical way to experience new places a little more deeply while also offsetting travel costs. If you’re curious how it works, feel free to reach out.

The galleries in Brevard were a highlight. Many feature dozens of local artists, and the craftsmanship was incredible: wooden bowls shaped like sculptures, vivid paintings, mountain photography, jewelry, and fiber art that felt like stories woven into cloth. Every gallery was a surprise, and every artist offered a different way of seeing the world. I left feeling inspired — the kind of creative spark travel gifts you when you’re paying attention.

Both towns share that unmistakable Western North Carolina blend of nature, friendliness, and creativity. They’re different, but together they made my stay feel full and balanced — one town offering peaceful walks and familiar charm, the other offering color, art, and imagination.

As with every stop on my journey, I’m learning that travel doesn’t have to be dramatic to be meaningful. Sometimes it’s the steady rhythm of small towns, a conversation with a shop owner, the cool air on a forest trail, or the inspiration found in a piece of handmade art. I know I’ll be back — there’s more to see, more to explore, and always more to learn from these beautiful mountain towns.

– Kari

by Karon -

Moments Along the Way

Over the last several weeks, I’ve wandered through one beautiful place after another, soaking in crisp fall air, colorful streets, and quiet moments that remind me why I love this season of life so much. While I haven’t written full posts about each stop, each one left an impression worth sharing.

During my time in Sackets Harbor, I fell into a sweet rhythm of daily walks along the waterfront. The town feels made for strolling—small shops to peek into, inviting restaurants to pause at, and sailboats resting gently in the harbor. The fall air was crisp, and every turn offered another burst of color. Leaves drifted across the sidewalks, and the whole town seemed wrapped in a warm, golden glow.

A little farther inland, the town of Croghan charmed me in its own unique way. It’s known for its famous Croghan bologna, and the local meat market proudly carries on that tradition. I wandered past the library with its mural, paused at the old train tracks and station, and lingered at the Croghan Island Mill—officially listed on the National Register of Historic Places since 2010. Main Street is lined with small businesses that feel loved and well-worn, each carrying its own story. There’s a sweetness to towns like this, where time seems to move just a bit slower.

Over several visits while I was at Amy’s, I spent time photographing the old barn in her backyard. It has probably stood there for over a century, weathered and strong, full of the kind of character only age can give. The light kept changing—soft in the morning, golden in the evening—and every shift brought out something new in the wood and the surrounding landscape. It’s one of those places that feels peaceful just to stand near.

Throughout northern New York, the fall color was absolutely spectacular this year. I found myself pulling over more than once just to capture a hillside glowing with reds and oranges, or a quiet backroad lined with trees dressed in their brightest shades. It didn’t matter where I was—the beauty kept appearing around every corner.

While traveling through West Virginia, I made a brief stop at the New River Gorge. The bridge there is breathtaking—soaring 876 feet above the river, the third-highest bridge in the United States, and the longest single-span steel arch bridge in the country. I paused at the visitors center and at a highway overlook where the mountains were dotted with fall leaves, capturing a few photos along the way. Standing there, looking out over the river and the colorful mountains, I felt that familiar mix of awe and gratitude. This world truly is filled with incredible places.

I’ve loved this first part of my travels. Every town, trail, and quiet moment has offered something beautiful. As I move forward, I’m excited to keep exploring, noticing, and collecting the little moments that make this journey so meaningful.

– Kari

by Karon -

Eternal Flame Falls – A One-of-a-Kind Sight

Shortly after I arrived in New York, I learned about Eternal Flame Falls from a Facebook friend — a place I had never even heard of before but immediately knew I wanted to see. Eternal flames are rare natural wonders found around the world, fueled by underground gases that allow them to burn indefinitely. From Turkey’s ancient Yanartaş, where fires have glowed for over 2,500 years and inspired the myth of the Chimera, to Pennsylvania’s smoldering coal mines in Centralia, these flames each tell a story of earth and fire intertwined. But the one tucked behind a small waterfall in western New York is something truly extraordinary — believed to be the only natural eternal flame in the United States, and perhaps the only one in the world sheltered within a grotto behind a cascading fall.

I set out for Eternal Flame Falls carrying one fear: being alone in a forest. What if I got lost? What if something went wrong? I would be on my own to face whatever came. The trail felt quiet at first, and I moved carefully, every step alert, every sound amplified by the stillness of the woods.

It wasn’t long before another challenge appeared. The creek trail was muddy and slippery, with gentle inclines that were more strenuous than I expected. Fallen trees to climb over, low branches to duck under, and shallow streams to cross kept me focused on the moment. I started out carefully stepping from stone to stone to keep my shoes dry, but soon I gave in to the playful freedom of wading through the shallow waters, laughing quietly at my own caution.

The forest itself was breathtaking. Golden and crimson leaves carpeted the ground, ravines revealed glimpses of hidden streams, and moss-covered rocks glowed softly in the filtered sunlight. Each turn of the trail brought a new moment to pause and simply be — the kind of quiet wonder that makes a forest feel alive.

Along the way, I met a friendly couple hiking out, and that brief connection eased the solitude I had felt at the start. Later, a kind stranger offered his hand on a slippery incline — such a simple gesture, yet it grounded me and reminded me that even in quiet moments of solitude, there is care and kindness in the world.

And then I arrived: the waterfall, the grotto, and the small flame tucked behind the rushing water. It was amazing. The cascade spilled over shale rock, while the flame flickered steadily, a small, magical beacon in the midst of rushing water. I could have stood there for hours, mesmerized by the delicate balance of fire and water, and the quiet, powerful wonder of nature.

By the time I left the forest, I felt lighter, stronger, and braver. Each step along the trail had been a small act of courage, a shedding of caution and worry. That hike wasn’t just about reaching a destination — it was about discovering confidence, joy, and a spark of fire within myself along the way. 🌿

— Kari

by Karon -

A Sweet Stop in Rochester: The Charlotte–Genesee Lighthouse & Savoia Bakery

As I continued my journey south through New York, I made a short stop in Rochester — a visit that beautifully blended history and local flavor. My first stop was the Charlotte–Genesee Lighthouse, standing where the Genesee River meets Lake Ontario in the Charlotte neighborhood.

Built in 1822, this sturdy stone lighthouse is the oldest active lighthouse on the U.S. side of Lake Ontario. It’s remarkable to think it has been guiding ships for more than two centuries — first lit by whale oil lamps, later upgraded to a Fresnel lens in 1853. Climbing its 42 steps to the lantern room, I paused to imagine sailors depending on that steady light. From the top, the panoramic view of the lake and harbor was breathtaking — calm, expansive, and quietly powerful.

The lighthouse still stands thanks to the dedication of the local community. In 1965, a letter-writing campaign saved it from demolition, and today it’s lovingly cared for by the Charlotte–Genesee Lighthouse Historical Society. It remains open to visitors — a beautiful reminder of Rochester’s maritime past and the importance of preservation.

Before leaving town, I stopped at Savoia Bakery, a Rochester favorite since 1929 — and a spot recommended by Corey. The moment I walked in, the air was rich with the scent of freshly baked pastries and Italian sweetness. The glass cases were filled with colorful, old-world treats, each one as beautiful as it was delicious. I picked out a few pastries for the road — soft, buttery, and just the right touch of comfort for a traveler heading south.

It was a quick visit, but one that captured so much of what I love about travel — a glimpse of history, a taste of local tradition, and a reminder of how small stops can leave lasting memories. 🌊🥐

— Kari

by Karon -

Ellicottville – A Hidden Gem in the Hills

I only spent one night in Ellicottville on my drive south from Sackets Harbor, but it left a lasting impression. Tucked into the rolling hills of western New York, this little town feels like something out of a storybook — charming streets, historic buildings, and a comforting small-town warmth that makes you slow down without even realizing it.

Walking through the downtown, I was struck by how everything felt intentionally quaint yet lived-in at the same time. Cozy cafés, little boutiques, and the soft bustle of locals going about their day created a rhythm that was both calming and inviting. I could easily imagine spending hours wandering these streets, discovering tucked-away corners and enjoying the subtle details that make a place feel like home.

The surrounding hills hint at adventure in every season. I only glimpsed them briefly, but I could see why people come here to hike, bike, ski, and snowboard. There’s a sense of possibility in the air — whether it’s a crisp autumn morning or a sparkling winter day, these hills are calling for exploration.

Even though my visit was short, I could already picture returning for some of the town’s seasonal events — the Fall Festival, the Ellicottville Championship Rodeo, or the magical “Christmas in Ellicottville,” when the streets glow with lights and the scent of pine and hot cocoa drifts through the air. I’d love to be here for one of those celebrations someday, to experience the town’s joy and community energy fully.

In that single night, Ellicottville managed to leave its mark — a combination of charm, adventure, and quiet reflection that stays with you. It’s a town that makes you want to linger, to return, and to explore every little corner. I may have only touched the surface, but I know there’s so much more waiting, and I can’t wait to see it again. 🌿

by Karon -

Fall Fun with Family

Fall has a way of bringing joy in the simplest of moments, and this October, I got to experience it in full with my daughter Amy and her family. My grandsons are amazing — curious, playful, and absolutely adorable — and spending time with them felt like a warm hug from the season itself.

We started the month with a trip to the apple orchard in Mexico, New York. The crisp air, colorful leaves, and scent of ripe apples made for a perfect autumn day. The boys ran between the trees, searching for the best apples, while I wandered slowly, soaking in the quiet beauty of the orchard. Of course, a few apples made their way into our bags — sweet reminders of a day well spent.

Halloween brought even more excitement. We went to Boo at the Zoo, where the boys giggled at the decorations, met costumed characters, and soaked up the festive fun. Then we headed to Halloweenville in Sackets Harbor — a charming event filled with Halloween fun, laughter, and community spirit. Watching them explore, marvel at pumpkins, and admire the displays made me feel like a kid again.

One of my favorite moments was seeing them in their school’s Halloween parade — so proud in their costumes, waving to family and friends. Their smiles were pure joy, and I couldn’t help but think how lucky I was to be there for it.

No autumn is complete without apple cider donuts, and we found the perfect ones at Burrville Cider Mill. Warm, sugary, and perfectly spiced, they were the ideal treat on a chilly fall afternoon.

Some days were quieter, and I cherished those just as much — walks on cool afternoons, cozy meals out, and playtime at home. I even got to see the grandsons in their Halloween costumes again, full of energy and imagination.

Amy and Corey are doing a wonderful job raising these little sparks of joy. Being there with them — sharing in simple pleasures and the magic of the season — reminded me once again that family, laughter, and love are the truest heart of fall.

— Kari