Honeysuckle Hill

Allen and I rarely venture beyond the city and suburbs into rural territory, but recently the beauty of fall has beckoned me into wide open spaces. I’ve longed to escape the city lights and get lost in the hills of Tennessee under a blanket of stars. . . Tonight my longing was fulfilled. We ventured to Honeysuckle Hill, a farm about forty-five minutes west of our home. The cool, crisp night air was refreshing. We lassoed fake bull heads, swung on saddle swings, drank hot chocolate and apple cider, rode on a huge trailer behind a tractor with our feet propped on bales of hay, saw three shooting stars, and experienced our first corn maze. We were more interested in searching for private corners of the labyrinth, than finding our way out. I didn’t know kissing behind cornstalks could be so magical. :) It was quite a romantic adventure. The simplicity and organic nature of the country soothed our souls. . . Cheers to love and a much needed escape from the ordinary!

Looks like we captured a ghost in the cornstalks, but it's actually steam from Allen's hot chocolate. . . pretty neat, eh?