Just before sunset on Oct. 15, Becky and I left home for the Jackson County Airport, its runway laid on a flattened-off ridge near Cullowhee named Berry Mountain.

Gain insight into the cultural heritage of the Cherokee and their historical, sacred landscapes during a lecture at 6 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 3, at the Highlands Nature Center.

A partial solar eclipse will be visible across the northern hemisphere on Thursday, June 10, hitting Western North Carolina around sunrise. 

I’ve been looking at the stars a lot lately. It started several weeks ago. 

It was 10:18 p.m. on a Sunday. We were driving the parkway, windows rolled down, Van Morrison on the radio. My boyfriend, Matthew, looked over and squeezed my knee. 

July 20, 1969.

This summer marks the fiftieth anniversary of the Apollo 11 moon landing. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin stepped to the moon’s surface while Michael Collins flew above them in lunar orbit. About 650 million people worldwide watched the live event on television. Millions of others listened to it on their radios or followed the progress of the astronauts in their newspapers. Those of us who watched will never forget where we were when those grainy images of human beings on the moon’s surface flickered on our television screens.

Expectation reigned at Clingmans Dome the morning of Aug. 21 as buses rolled in carrying the 1,325 people lucky enough to snag tickets for the solar eclipse event at the highest point in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Packing to watch the sun disappear felt like packing for work, camping and an emergency evacuation all at once.

Covered in sweat, I could feel the slight trickle of ice water dripping down my leg.

It was like watching the slowest sporting event ever. Spectators with their eyes toward the sky shouted in excitement and booed with disappointment as the clouds passed over the sun.

Strange days, as Doors front man Jim Morrison famously sang, have found us.