Easter Sunrise Service...Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park
A Journey through the Night

The quiet of the darkened night was disrupted by the sound of two metal doors shutting. A turn of the ignition key sent a charge to the combustion chamber of our private chariot as Mrs. Highlander and I fasten our seatbelts and settled back anticipating a new adventure within our beloved Blue Ridge Smoky Mountains.

With the flip of a switch the headlights brighten the pavement before us as we set out descending the mountain slope on a journey that will take us to an ancient geologic site some three hours away. First, we must cross from west to east a great mountainous expanse as we race to catch the rising sun. Our destination and goal was to watch the morning sunrise from a viewing position along the upper reaches of Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park in Rutherford County, North Carolina.

It’s 2:00 a.m. Easter morning and we were on our way. The night was moonless and as black as coal when we accessed the four-lane highway with only the black pavement and our headlights to guide our way. The radio in our chariot was silent as well as we were. Stationed between us on our console were two large traveling mugs filled to the brim with fresh roasted Stucco House Coffee, well-needed companions for this long and viewless journey. There were no visible landmarks to assure us of our location along the way, using only the steady rhythm of the lines dividing the roadway to keep us on track.

Along the journey, we found ourselves taking on curve after curve as we now wound down a narrow two-lane roadway into the lower reaches of the Nantahala River Gorge. The river gorge is quiet for now adjoining in sleep with the rest of night forest, yet during the daylight of spring through the fall seasons, this river gorge is awake with remarkable beauty and the sounds of rushing whitewater, along with the screams and laughter of rafters and kayakers taking advantage of this exciting river course.

Soon we found ourselves climbing out of the depths of the river gorge and once again picked up the four-lane highway along US 74 heading east. We were just beginning to enter a large deep valley in the south central Blue Ridge Smoky Mountains. Here the highway finds itself wedged between the southern slopes of the Great Smoky Mountains to the north, and a section of the high mountains of the Nantahala National Forest to the south. Time now to just sit back and enjoy the quiet ride.

Unfortunately that didn’t last for long. In this deep valley we soon encountered a dense fog that was most likely created by the warming spring air and the cool waters of the Tuckaseegee River. The fog was so thick it brought our visibility to near 0, even with our fog lights we could barely make out the short yellow lines ahead of us as we cut our speed down too a slower pace. Fortunately, so far, we have encountered little to no traffic along our journey although we keep our eyes peeled for slow moving taillights ahead. That fresh brewed coffee sure came in handy now as I took small sips to big gulps to keep alert.

It wasn’t just being aware of traffic ahead that concerned us; it was the wildlife pedestrians we also needed to watch out for. Such as a deer crossing the road or other critters scurrying about, raccoons, groundhogs and possums, or maybe even a stray dog. I’ve seen keen eyed owls use the glow of our headlights to swoop down on prey right in front of our vehicle at night. We might even encounter a couple of coyotes, or possibly a lone red wolf crossing the roadway ahead.

We are always cautious when driving to avoid hitting any of the abundant wildlife that exists in the mountains, but on this trip we couldn’t see much of anything but fog. Last summer during an evening return trip along this stretch of highway, we spotted a wild red wolf crossing the roadway. I’ve seen coyotes on a rare occasion since Mrs. Highlander and I relocated to these mountainous highlands in 1995, but never a red wolf until last summer. It seems the red wolf population was declining to the point of extinction in the U.S. by 1970. A red wolf breeding program was introduced in the Southeast, with diligent effort it became a great success. Since 1992 red wolves have been released in wildlife areas along the coast of the Carolina’s and the Great Smoky Mountain National Park.

The problem lies with the coyotes that aren’t threatened by extinction. At times coyotes patrol in packs of two along the outer edges of the wild forest, sometimes wreaking havoc on small livestock and worse, small family pets like dogs and cats.

Coyote’s like wolves are considered nocturnal animals preferring the cover of darkness to set upon their prey. Nocturnal animals are the most mysterious of our wildlife family, often considered by some as otherworldly creatures with a heightened sensitivity, different from our sun dwelling wildlife companions.

Driving along US 74 we found ourselves still caught within this thick pea soup of a fog bank, which is neither darkness nor light. It was an eerie feeling as though Mrs. Highlander and I were somehow dwelling with those nocturnal creatures along this stretch of highway on that dark lonely night, adjoined in a parallel existence within a mysterious cloud of fog.

We continued to drive cautiously through this blanket of white glowing mist, a cloudy vapor that had spun itself into a false reality in order to distort our senses. From a scientific point of view, it’s only natural; just nature’s steam vapor, that’s all, although it still feels strangely eerie.

I began to get a sense of snow blindness, gazing ahead searching for the roadway as I downed the last still warm gulp of my fresh brew. I couldn’t risk falling into a trans state and lose my way. Though this fog did seem to glow with its own natural light, I had to remind myself it is not a true light, but an illusion created by our chariot’s artificial illumination.

Trying to concentrate on our journey’s end and the glory of its sunrise, my thoughts began to drift away to the mysterious ancient people that once lived here amongst these highlands and their deep dark coves. Old as dirt, wouldn’t begin to describe the Blue Ridge Smoky Mountains, some estimate these mountains to be over a half a billion years old, others claim they are filled with mysteries that reached beyond our normal perception. Hidden away in the deep forest and perched neatly on the mountaintops were secluded high places of the ancient people.

The Cherokee people have many tales of these sacred places and of otherworldly creatures believed to have once existed; scores of these tales and their great mysteries and wonders, have been passed along in oral traditions from one generation to the next.

They also tell stories of the spirit people, and the ancient tales of their interaction with the tribal children of this mountain world. This race of immortal spirits is known as the Nunnehi. The Nunnehi lived separately from the Cherokee in the spirit world.

Oral traditions claim the Nunnehi lived in townhouses within the physical mountains themselves, yet always held a dear kinship with their earthly red brothers.

Still strapped to the steering wheel we continued to glide along thru the dense eternal abyss of a fog, we found ourselves and our night chariot a prisoner within a cloud that was not of our choosing. We managed to maintain a steady 45 mph on the speedometer with the hum of our tires against the pavement as the only music we heard. There was a strange still quietness that divided Mrs. Highlander and I as I tried to concentrate on the roadway and our destination, though my mind continued to drift back to the various ancient myths and legends of these mysterious mountains. There has always been a strangeness to this world we live in that we may never fully comprehend.

The myths and legends of the Cherokee can either be happy or sad, wise or foolish, foretelling or sometimes dark and pure evil, a kind of darkness that lies beyond the black of night.

All races and societies throughout the world have a similar common cultural thread throughout history that has continued along the line of both wisdom and prophecy; and that of good and evil.

From earliest times there have been those who have worshiped the light and life of the sun’s nurturing properties; while others have chosen a quicker more deceitful and vindictive path of darkness, a kind of fast food for the wicked. This darkness and unnatural order longs compulsively to take over the ways of the light, for it is jealous of its happiness. Though it detests the light, it continually strides to control, destroy or influence the joy of the Light itself, it longs to destroy the Light for good, or rather for the sake of evil. Even today, darkness still amasses itself against what is good for all, through methods of greed, control, self-indulgence and worse. What was once considered the practice of dark arts has in time become an obsession for control over the masses; this desire for empowerment doesn’t just come from the so-called top of the food chain, but from many that rest along the bottom as well. Darkness knows no class structure.

The truth is darkness does fall on the good, but it also eventually falls on itself with its own disastrous weight. Light on the other hand, always rises again and prevails. Darkness can never put out the Light as hard as it tries; it’s just a vicious unnecessary cycle of good versus evil.

So darkness has had to go undercover to survive, it sees itself as wise when it’s only cunning at best. It continually seeks to seduce the “Children of the Light,” leading them astray to stumble into a darken place by its influences of deceit, treachery, misdeeds and self-indulgence.

Guilt and mistakes have run through all that is human from the biggest to the smallest, whether it’s an intentional wrong or a completely unintended occurrence or misjudgment. It’s just what happens when you travel the road of life; it can’t be helped. If only we were to seek the Light beyond the darkness we would find ourselves resting more peaceful through the night, recharging our physical bodies while giving rest to our weary spirit before we arise to the joy of the sun, a place where we can begin anew each day.

How do we begin a journey from the influences of darkness back to the Light, knowing that we ourselves are imperfect as well as are others? We can begin the path back to the warm embrace of the Son with one heartfelt simple statement.

“Forgive me for my offenses, as I forgive others for their offenses.”

I felt the weight of our vehicle slow down slightly as I realized we might be approaching Balsam Gap, and a junction that accesses the Blue Ridge Parkway up ahead. I adjusted my speed for the ascent and soon begin to notice a thinning in the fog. Just a little further up the pavement and we finally break completely free from the fog and welcomed the pitch-blackness of the moonless star filled night again. The high beams of our four-wheel drive chariot seemed to shine for miles ahead, glaring off the road’s reflectors as if we were landing on a runway after a long journey through the darkness of a gray cloud.

Right after we crossed the gap I spotted a welcome sight and the first small cluster of streetlights we’ve seen in a long while. Up ahead at the oasis of lights was a rest stop and a place where I could say thanks and good-bye to that large cup of coffee, stretch my legs and uncurl my fingers from the steering wheel. “Thanks North Carolina.”

A few minutes after we were back on the road we reached the bright lights of Waynesville and started to come alive again catching a good wind on the inside as we continue our journey to meet the sun.

Past Waynesville, we encountered the junction of Interstate 40 that led north to Knoxville along the Little Pigeon River Gorge. We in turn pick up Interstate 40 east to Asheville ahead where Mrs. Highlander and I could just begin to make out the glow of the city lights far in the distance. More miles pass under our wheels before we reach Asheville and pass the exit to Biltmore Estate; excitement begins to arise knowing our final trek of highway is but a few miles up the road. Soon a large green directional signs appeared reading, Lake Lure-Chimney Rock and Bat Cave, Next Exit.

We both snickered “Bat Cave” an appropriate sign for the night’s journey. Bat Cave is a small spot in the road just before you reach the tourist town of Chimney Rock and the State Park our final destination. Bat Cave is an interesting and charming residential community along the banks of the Broad River in the Hickory Nut Gorge. The town got its name from a local bat cave; you know those nocturnal winged ones and creatures of the night, not to be confused with the capped crusaders of the comic books.

Exiting Interstate 40 we access US 74A south and almost immediately we passed under the overpass (a second junction) of the Blue Ridge Parkway. A couple miles further and we find ourselves in the town of Fairview. The town light’s were a welcome companion; even artificial light awakens the senses when there’s non-other. Leaving town we once again found ourselves enveloped in a darkness and stillness that only exist just before the dawn.

I’m familiar with this landscape though; my daylight memory reminded me of the open rolling meadowlands and hills along both sides of the two-lane roadway, with the large forbidding mountains of the Hickory Nut Gorge up ahead. Reaching the foot of this range we began our ascent to Hickory Nut Gap.

We felt like we were the only vehicle on the road when suddenly we spotted a set of taillights winding its way up along the switchbacks ahead. We soon caught up to the vehicle and notice two more stretched out in front of it as we crossed over the gap, and then another and another as we wound down the mountain’s east face.

It wasn’t long before we were all tailing each other as though we were glowing marbles rolling down a narrow winding slide. I forgot to mention, since we existed onto US 74A we’ve been following the historic scenic Drovers Road By-Way, not so scenic right now unless you consider bright red taillights breaking on and off along the downgrade a scenic drive.

The steeper switchbacks ended only to be taken up by winding curves as we glided along the northern banks of the Broad River before passing through the town of Bat Cave. “Bat Cave,” we snickered once again, I’m not sure if the name is so amusing to us or we are just excited to know we were about to arrive at our destination. At Bat Cave we continued straight ahead as the roadway now became US 74A/64, our destination is just a few curves up the road.

The caravan of night travelers rolled into the small tourist town of Chimney Rock, sparse streetlights lit our way as we slowed down and began to form a line. It’s about 5:30 A.M., Easter Morning and fortunately for us the long night ride through the fog didn’t slow us down too much. Up ahead two figures holding flashlights moved their beams from right to left guiding the traffic thru the entrance of the park, I wasn’t surprised to see every vehicle on the road entering the gate.

As Mrs. Highlander and I approached the first figure waving a flashlight, we realized it was Mary Jaeger-Gale, General Manager of Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park, and a long time park devotee of over 28 years. Traffic guide was just another duty Mary had place upon herself on this special day. Her gracious smile and flashlight were all she needed to greet and direct everyone entering Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park.

As we passed thru the big gothic looking stone gateway, I was in remembrance of this exact spot in a scene from a movie starring a very young Drew Barrymore, “Firestarter.” As we crossed the wooden bridge over the rushing white waters of the Broad River, just before we entered the parklands, I chuckled to Mrs. Highlander, “Steven King, as dark as night, yeah that’s all we need now,” she giggled.

Easter Sunrise at Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park
Rutherford County, North Carolina

We enter the park and followed the approach road up to the Meadows; visitors need to arrive before 6:00 A.M., after that the gate will be temporally closed a couple of hours for the event. This approach road is the last link of our journey on a long un-scenic night drive.

FYI, clear skies and full moon night drives in the Blue Ridge Smoky Mountains can be absolutely stunning. Massive silhouettes of mountainscapes line the horizons, as sparse clouds paint wispy brushstrokes across the darken sky. Illuminated by the moonlight, are the valley floors and rolling hills, reflecting a subdued pale white light so vivid that even the early spring forest often requires no flashlight to find your way under the moonlit sky. But this was no such night and it was the darkest hour before the dawn.

We reached the ticket plaza and found it closed. No admission fee required, it’s the Easter Sunrise Service and the staff of Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park have opened their gates to all of us to witness a glorious natural phenomenon on this very special day. Beginning on Easter 1965, folks have gotten up in the middle of the night and journeyed to the park just to be a part of this inspirational and unique experience.

Entering the Meadow’s we found the big open field that’s normally used for recreation and education, quickly filling up with vehicles. Mrs. Highlander and I gathered up our photo equipment and grabbed our flashlights and we were off to catch the sun.

IMPORTANT: For this event the staff at Chimney Rock would like to remind you to bring flash lights, wear a warm jacket, long pants, socks and shoes, bring folding chairs and a blanket if you like, it’s early spring and it’s likely to be cold here in the morning. A couple bottles of water would be nice and for your convenience clean restrooms are located next to the viewing area.

Mrs. Highlander and I flipped on our flashlights and made our way over to the first of many buses waiting to carry visitors up the mountain grade.

On our short walk from vehicle to the bus I’m reminded of how grateful I am to have Mrs. Highlander, she great company to have along, always looking to assist. She helps carry my equipment and gathers information while I shoot away, or plays backup photographer if I need. Besides, I can’t afford a little donkey to help carry the equipment and I’m not sure the staff at Chimney Rock would allow you to bring in personal livestock, although the good news is that the park does allow dogs throughout the year.

Strangers with flashlights were all converging together as we entered thru the narrow metal bus door. We made it to our school bus seat and just my luck; we got the seat with the wheel well on the floor.

Everyone sat back as the bus began to move out, all cradled in the professional hands of our experienced driver as we took the last lap of our journey up a paved roadway consisting of sharp curves and switchbacks.

Many of the passengers were beginning to talk quietly to one another. I found myself gently “school bus” bouncing up down as we drove along. Then we all began to slightly sway from right to left, as we took on each curve picking up speed as the bus challenges the natural gravity of the road ahead. I leaned out into the isle and watched the headlights bounce off the trees ahead of us one curve after another without one straight section of road in sight, as though I could actually see the road from my seat, nothing but trees. This action started everyone on the bus giggling and laughing with every turn. What a hoot. I have driven this route many times, it’s a beautiful drive yet its never been so much fun. I felt like I was on bus, loaded with kids going to camp. I was ready to go back down to take the ride again, wheel hump and all.

As we came to the upper parking area everyone piled out and walked across the parking lot to the observation viewing area. When Mrs. Highlander and I arrived at the viewing area we found a crowd already gathering, setting up their chairs in rows in front of a low stone safety wall on the east side of parking area, others followed behind. The numbers were growing and there was one common character that seemed to posses the crowd. Everyone was respectively quiet, speaking if they chose to in a low voice, smiling and quite courteous for this Sunrise Easter Service. It was as if they were all children who had told themselves that if they behaved well they’d get to see something wondrous and magical.

We set up our equipment by the raised platform and podium next to the wall. I mounted a 35mm camera to my tripod and set the focus for the horizon some 75-miles away, and tested the exposure against a dark morning sky.

Down below I could see a line of headlights and taillights still snaking their way up to the Meadows. The small distant town lights of Chimney Rock and Lake Lure sparsely dotted the valley below. This sunrise was going to take awhile to break over the horizon, so I asked Mrs. Highlander to take a photo about once every five minutes while I moved about and took a few shots of the visitors and the cycle of subtle activities going on at the time up on the platform.

The first thing I had time to notice as I began to move about was the grand spectacle of the park itself, the giant standing monolith of Chimney Rock’s namesake, all lit up in its towering glory rising high above the crowd.

Now would be a good time to fill in those who might not be as familiar with Chimney Rock State Park as others are. The establishment of this 1,000-acre park is roughly 100 years old and one of the oldest parks in the state. The vision for the park dates back to the year 1900 when Dr. Locus B. Morse paid 25 cents to ride a mule to the top of Chimney Rock. Today you can take the stairs up or better yet ride the elevator to the top. So inspired by the view and the grandeur of the Hickory Nut Gorge, he and his children and his children’s children fashioned the park into what it is today. Along with the development of the park, Dr. Morse with the help of investors constructed Lake Lure in the valley below. The majestic park, the lake and the river gorge are one of the most visited regions is all the Blue Ridge Mountain Province.

Today, Chimney Rock State Park is owned by the state of North Carolina and operated by Chimney Rock Management, LLC a private company comprised of staff members, some of which have served the Chimney Rock Park for decades.

The Park is one of the finest examples of bare-face-rock-mountains throughout the entire Blue Ridge, surrounded in a landscape of beautiful flora with a variety fauna to boot, and more assets than we have time to cover now.

Geologist have estimate the standing pillar of igneous rock dates back 535-million years. Erosion along the mountain face has caused the chimney pillar to appear as though it is an entity unto itself, when in fact it is a part of the of whole. The towering igneous chimney rock stands like a lone sentry guarding the entrance to the Hickory Nut Gorge and the Blue Ridge Mountain interior. Later in the story I’ll give you a peak of the gorge entrance or maybe not, we'll have to wait to see how the story ends. There’s much more to read learn about the park within the Blue Ridge Highlander for when you have time…now back to our Easter story.

After getting a couple of shots of the towering pillar, I continued moving about the crowd sneaking a shot here and there of the folks attending, all the while keeping an eye on the platform and the start of the program. But before we go any further lets take a look and how Mrs. Highlander is doing….the skyline is just barely beginning to show a slight orange crest along the horizon, with a dim blue hue barely rising above it, crowned by a lone bright star along the horizon. After a short while, the lights of the winding night snake below stopped and disappeared.

The crowd remained rather quiet even with small groups talking amongst themselves as I continued to work my camera’s shutter and flash; fortunately a few others are shooting a flash here and there as well.

This special sunrise service is an inter-denominational community worship, and all are welcome. Moving about the crowd I see all types and races of people; folks that appearance led me to believe there were conservative, liberals and moderates. Some wardrobes were colorful to muted, many appeared to be in costume, like the Scottish bag pipers occasionally playing their instruments, a biker couple that proudly displayed their Harley emblems, native Americans want-a-be’s wrapped in blankets, large bunny rabbit people, and one guy dressed as a old man…”my apologies” that is an old man, and I not even going to get into what I must have looked like, a photo compulsive Tonto, Hop Sing looking impersonator with a camera.

Pulling my camera away from my eyes I looked out towards the horizon and could see the orange thin crest hadn’t grown much brighter, yet the blue hue of the morning sky was slowly growing. Time once again to check on my little donkey, or rather Mrs. Highlander to see how she was getting along. Outside of being a little cold just standing in one spot she was doing fine. I checked the camera and adjusted the exposure; the dim blue waters of Lake Lure below were coming into light, as the sparse town lights were beginning to fade out with the coming of the morning light.

Up on the platform Mandy and Eric Keel stepped up to the microphone and began to sing a duet quietly as though they wanted to blend into the tranquil atmosphere as the light upon the horizon steadily yet slowly grew brighter. A single light shined upon the platform illuminating the duet, behind them a large white cross. To some, the cross represents a symbol of where the light of the heavens intercepts the plane of the earth in union; to millions of others, it is a sacrificial tree, a wooden alter where the Light of the Son’s Salvation and his gift of Forgiveness offer eternal life.

I looked over to the crowd that has been sitting still in near complete silence, transfixed on the horizon and the wonderment of it all. Two realities are beginning to collide, that of the darkness and the ever-growing light.

Standing between these two realities I began to ponder this age-old battle of wills, the challenge of darkness to put out the Light once and for all, and the Light’s overpowering will to claim its very own…life itself.

As the Light grows ever brighter, the shadows of darkness begin to regroup struggling to hold its own against an overwhelming force. Darkened shadows move about in disarray not wanting to give up the ghost, clustering together and swirling about, retreating into the darken places in an attempt to escape their inevitable doom. It is the darkness of the night that is giving way, being forever pressed westward by the authority of the rising sun.

As the duet sang their ending note, John Mason, took to the platform and began performing a solo on his hammered dulcimer. The beautiful sounds of the dulcimer filled the sky above our heads. It was the only sound being heard amongst hundreds of worshipers this beautiful Easter morning. Everyone remained still as though they were in a holy cathedral. It was then that I caught something strange in my camera lens as the light of the predawn began to expand along the sky. It was a phenomenon I experienced only once before.

Facing the platform with the cross center-stage, and the musical artist on either side, with the sunlight expanding over the horizon, my camera picked up something rather unique within a sequence of three separate photos. They are called photographic “glow balls,” unexplainable glowing orbs floating through the air. The first time I remember seeing them in a photo, I thought I was seeing spots before my eyes, they looked almost like bubbles with a nucleus.

Some might consider these to be a standard optical illusion like a glare from a light; others might consider them to be large dust particles floating thru the air or snowflakes falling. I’m familiar with these particular occurrences…this was different.

Yet it was only these three consecutive shots while the dulcimer played that I saw the glow balls move about with my camera. This happened to me once before when Mrs. Highlander and I visited a Christmas event at a local folk school near where we live. I was photographing in their auditorium and dance hall. While I was standing and photographing in the same exact position something unique happen in a photo sequence of three, even though I had taken dozens of shots from that very same spot both before and after the occurrence.

I think a little set up for this tale is needed here. There were several dances being performed that day, normally it was a joyous holiday event, yet this day was different. Sadly, one of the young adult dance members had passed away a couple days prior to the event. When his dance troupe took to the floor they were dancing their hearts out for their fallen friend. I was shooting quite fast in the same exact direction and three photos in a roll displayed a hall filled with the glow balls in completely different spots and sizes, similar to the ones floating above the platform surrounding the white cross.

If it were dust, it likely wouldn’t be moving around and changing size that quickly. There was no sun rising in the hall and the room lights were affixed to the ceiling. There were no noticeable dust particles in the air, that I could detect, and I wasn’t zooming the camera in, I had it on fairly standard wide angle.

After catching this occurrence twice, once during that Christmas event and once during this Easter event, I decided to do some research and discovered that other photographers had also captured this same phenomena, that’s when I had learned they were referred to as, “glow balls.” In one photo the air was absolutely full of them and the best part of that photo was that it was taken outdoors in the night with no exterior lights for miles around, only a single flash. I went on to discover that in each of these incidences there was one common thread, the atmosphere was charged with a form of indescribable energy and even more so, people were involved each time.

Trying not to go out on a limb here, I guesstimate this occurrence might be caused by a type of spiritual energy, not so much by the making of human themselves, but by the magnetic draw of the supernatural to human forms. People tend to believe that the supernatural is a state separate from the natural, what most people don’t understand is that it’s one and the same, a dual reality divided by a veil of consciousness. We are all natural beings living in the supernatural, the beatings of our hearts, the breathing of our lungs, the stirring thoughts of our mind. “Well science says,” well science still hasn’t figured out all the great mysteries, it’s still working on its own theory or “belief” on how the reality of life came into existence.

Maybe it’s just a figment of my imagination, being that I had been staring into the dark for so long that chilly morning. Could it be just a dizzying dream? Or maybe, just maybe these orbs are part of an angelic force, making a special appearance in a natural form of their own, and in a form of transcendence that we have yet to comprehend. Moving about the air around us, gathering in numbers driving out the shadows of darkness before the rising Son this Easter Morning. An intimate personal experience attracted by the spirits of each human soul that has assembled here today for this special occasion. Maybe the glow balls are acting in the manner of a “Passover,” making way for the prelude of the first Easter and every Easter after Calvary. In this photo sequence of floating orbs, I’ve added a close-up for both the believers and the skeptics alike. Personally I am not sure what they are, I honestly prefer to leave it up to you to decide on your own what you feel they are or are not.

As the sun began to brake the earth's plane along the horizon, the light of the early morn began to fill the sky, the activities on the platform then took a new turn. The music became silent as three distinguish leaders of “The Light and Way,” approached the stage platform. One at a time each took their position behind the podium and began to read from the Great Book, an ancient book that spans from the times of the sun and moon worshipers to the times of those who worship in the spirit and in the power that created it all, partaking of its saving grace. Each man spoke passionate words from the Great Book as the crowd listened on. “The powers of heaven and earth have been laid before us, a choice is offered, life or death, a path of living in the light, or the descent of dwelling in darkness.”

I switched off my flash to create silhouettes of the cross, the speakers and the light of the morning sky’s beautiful backdrop, divinely painted in shades of blue, pink and gold. A new day has come: the Light and the Son once again conquered the darkness, as it always shall throughout eternity. With the sun completely broken free from its bonds, it’s time now for the Children of the Light to decree…”HE HAS RISIN!”

After the Great Book was closed and the three gentlemen stepped down from the platform, the young lady returned to the microphone and began to sing. Singing solo, I was captivated by the purity and tone of her beautiful voice unaccompanied by any instrument. She took in the air around her as if it was holy nourishment, delivering it back to a crowd that had remained silent and in a near state of trans for so long. A gift from the heavens is in her voice…I must take time to tell her so. When the last echo of her magnificent voice ended, so did the service for this very special and unique Easter Sunrise Service. Praise the Lord; we have been delivered from darkness once again, to live in the Light of the World.

A moment of silence was suddenly broken by the blare of bagpipes sounding "the call," the final celebration.

The pipers and company moved through the crowd as if to break up a gathering of sheep, driving them out into the sun, filled with joy, hope and great expectations.

Folks began to rise from their chairs stretching their bodies and limbs. All cameras were out capturing the last photos of their beloved sun rising slowly in the eastern sky. Quiet time was over for now, and a new day had just begun. People in blankets were still strolling around, as many others lingered on, taking group photos of one another. Some sun worshipers remained covered in blankets, as they basked in the warm rays of the sun while others laughed and joked, the spirit of joy was contagious.

For now, the shadows of darkness are fleeing westward, forever defeated from their long siege of the night.

As for me, I just kept on clicking away with one camera while my little donkey, seriously I mean, the love of my life breaks down the tripod and packs away the other camera.

I saw heads bowed in gratitude and beautiful smiling faces standing before me, while the backs of several heads and shoulders blocked my view of the horizon. It was their turn now I’ve done enough.

Just as I was about to pack up, I noticed a gentle and beautiful German Shepherd sitting alone along the stone ledge, staring at the sun and the glistening lake below. I thought to myself, “man and beast, are we so different?” He turned his head just for a second and I seized the opportunity to catch his profile; then chuckled to myself, “Shepherd and Sheep.”

Mrs. Highlander joined me now. As we prepared to leave we noticed Chimney Rock General Manager, Mary Jaeger-Gale standing with another of our Chimney Rock staff-friends, Emily Walker, Education Specialist. We thanked them both and all the other park staff members for inviting us to this unique and wonderful event, and then I naturally had to take the time to pick on Emily; it’s what I do.

Mary invited us all to stay and spend the day in the park, “now that everybody’s in the park you might as well spend the whole day; it’s on the house for everyone who attended the event”

We thanked Mary for opening the park to all us sun lovers, yet had to decline her offer. “We’d had a good fill of spiritual food this inspiring morning,’ I responded, but we had to head back home to have Easter dinner with our family, right after we stop at Old Rock Café for breakfast,” and bid them farewell.

We headed back across the parking area to catch a ride back down the mountain, and to our good fortune boarded a more plush and roomy shuttle bus for our trip back to the Meadows. We loaded up our vehicle and exited the Meadows. Driving back down the approach road we crossed the wooden bridge by the entrance gate. I chuckled to Mrs. Highlander, “Steven King has just left the building, time for him to crawl back under his bed and tell more tales about things that go bump in the night.”

We pulled into the parking area in front of the Old Rock Café next to the park entrance in the little town of Chimney Rock. The café is one of the park’s two eateries; there we joined a growing crowd for a fine buffet breakfast of southern delights. After loading up our plates we sat down at a table on the deck and began to partake in eggs, biscuits, gravy, etc. with all the fixin’s including grits. While eating we chatted with other sun enthusiasts who felt the glory of this day, some were like us who made the night or early morning trip to the park, while others had journeyed here from across the country.

After filling our stomachs we began to head out, but not until I took some more photos. I’ll admit I might need professional help, once I start shooting I just can’t stop, maybe there’s a 12-step program I can join…Clicker’s Anonymous?

We headed back north along US 64/74A, officially titled Drovers Road By-Way, named after the 18th century herdsmen who drove livestock from the low Carolina’s to the city of Asheville in the mountain interior.

With the sun rising ever higher in the sky we could now enjoy the scenic drive back across the mountains and take our time. It is still early though, we’ll probably stop in Asheville and do a little big game shopping. By that I mean Mrs. Highlander and I live so deep in the back woods of the mountains we could now take the opportunity to stock up on things we don’t have access to back home.

We made a final farewell to Chimney Rock at Chimney Rock State Park and are thankful to have had this wonderful experience.

Thanks for opening your park and hearts to us all, we’ll be back real soon, and often.

May God Bless Us All...The Highlander

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