I have been here and seen the coming of man to my rivers. In my shadows have walked wildlife that no longer walk here. From my lofty peaks you can see for many miles. Once I stood higher than the far western mountains. I may have shifted and changed but I remain. My rivers are cold and my forest cool. From my bowels man has both feed himself and built his shelters. He has raped my slopes for my wood. Fought wars within me. I still survive. Mist still shroud my valleys. Flowers still shine their beauty for all to see. Come walk my paths an fish my streams. Stand on my peaks and walk my valleys. Loose yourself within yourself as your cares fade away when your with me. I am the Great Smoky Mountains, the Great Iron Mountains, Far Blue Mountains, the Sha-cona-ga. Most just call me the Smokies, and I remain.
And a quote from John Muir “The mountains, are fountains, not only of rivers and fertile soil, but of men