As the Honey Badger, I’ve chased countless sunrises and sunsets across these ancient Appalachian ridges, but nothing quite prepares you for the moment when heavenly rays pierce a veil of clouds over the Blue Ridge Mountains. As the meteorological winter turned to spring, one recent crisp evening set the stage for a remarkable conversation.

One of my pursuits when time is scarce is to hike the fog-shrouded trails above Asheville. As I become older, my pace has slowed, but the benefit is that I spend more time in the present. My camera tends to keep me grounded in a chosen setting as well.

On this evening, I stopped at a popular spot with fantastic views, which is customarily frequented by sightseers decades younger than me. While setting up for what could have been one of the first spring sunsets, a college student and I began a conversation. We found a common interest in the remarkable scene we were witnessing. After sharing historical pleasantries – Sebastian’s family was originally from El Salvador, and Badger had travelled there and extensively in Central America – we conversed in what Joni Mitchell would call “present tenses.”

The conversation was absolutely delightful and flowed freely as I photographed the scene. The first golden beams sliced through the layered mist like ethereal fingers from above. These crepuscular rays, as they’re scientifically known, transformed the view from the ordinary into the sublime, casting long, luminous shafts that danced across the undulating peaks of the Newfound Mountains, turning the hazy blues and purples of those distant horizons into a living canvas of light and shadow.

Sebastian commented that the innate beauty of the rays lies in their fleeting impermanence, born from the perfect alignment of sun, clouds, and atmosphere. He said in his own way that the scene reminded him of nature’s quiet orchestration, where the simplest elements conspire to evoke a sense of awe and spiritual connection in these timeless ridges.

What we discovered and expressed was a mutual observation that these heavenly rays illuminate not just the landscape but also the soul of the Southern Appalachians. In that golden glow, the silhouetted trees in the foreground stood stark against the radiant backdrop, while the successive ridges faded into softer hues, each layer whispering stories of geological epochs and human resilience. It’s a beauty that was described as innate, unmanufactured, and free from the clamor of city lights, offering a pure, unfiltered glimpse of divinity in the wild.

We acknowledged that for those willing to venture out, whether on foot or in spirit, and to remain in the present, the Blue Ridge rewards the fortunate with moments of transcendence, urging us to pause, breathe, and appreciate the subtle miracles that unfold daily in our chosen activities.

The outside world with all of its flaws was forgotten when Generation Z and the Septuagenarian Badger took the time to converse. I will always remember those rays that transitional evening and the thoughts shared will likewise be remembered.

By the way, Sebastian knew about the incense owls, too.

Many of the HoneyBadgerImages are on display at instagram.com/honeybadgerimages.

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