Held by the Fog, Healed by the Light: A Sunset Journey Through Skyline Drive
I wrote about Skyline Drive a few days ago, but something in me felt unfinished. As I sat with the memories and emotions, I realized there was so much more I wanted to share. So, this is the fuller story — the version with more feeling, more truth, and more heart.
Some journeys aren’t just about where you go.
They’re about what you carry with you — and what the world gently helps you lay down along the way.
This recent trip through Skyline Drive wasn’t just another day with my camera. It was one of those rare moments where nature, emotion, and love met in the same breath. And it meant everything to me — not only because of what I saw, but because of who was with me and what we faced together.
🚙 The Drive That Carries Me
Because of my seizures, I can’t drive.
So every adventure — every overlook, every deer sighting, every stop to capture a moment — is possible because of my mom.
She doesn’t just take the wheel.
She sees what I see. She listens. She knows where the good spots are.
She helps me find beauty — both around me and inside me — even when things feel heavy.
We started this trip around midday, just the two of us, winding through the mountains, the trees tall and green around us.
We talked — not just about what we were seeing, but about what’s been weighing on us lately.
Stress. Life. Grief. Hope. The kinds of things that live in the background until a long drive gives them room to come forward.
🌧️ When the Rain Came
It began slowly — a gentle rain falling as we moved deeper into the mountains.
The forest hushed. The road shimmered. And something in me softened.
Rain always makes me feel things more deeply. Maybe it’s because it slows everything down. Maybe because it matches my inner world — quiet, emotional, heavy but healing.
The windows fogged slightly as we drove, the world outside turning softer, like a painting in motion. My mom and I fell into a peaceful silence — just watching, just feeling.
🌅 A Sky That Spoke in Color
Then, as the rain faded, the sky opened.
And I mean opened.
Red. Orange. Pink. Violet.
It wasn’t just a sunset — it was a release.
Like the sky was expressing all the emotion I couldn’t put into words.
And just as the colors came alive, the fog began to rise. Not to cover the beauty — but to dance with it.
The mist curled through the trees, drifted across ridges, and rolled down into valleys like the mountains were exhaling.
Sometimes it would hide the light completely.
Other times, it would pull back just enough to reveal the fire behind the clouds.
And every time it shifted, I snapped the shutter.
Not just to capture what I was seeing…
But to hold on to what I was feeling.
🦌 The Deer We Saw Together
It was my mom who saw them first — like she always does.
A family of deer stepped gently into view, their legs delicate, their presence powerful.
She pointed them out quietly, giving me just enough time to prepare without startling them.
One of them turned and looked right at me.
And I swear — for a heartbeat — everything else disappeared.
The worry. The pain. The stress. The seizures. The noise.
Just me.
And this wild, gentle creature.
Sharing a moment of peace neither of us needed to explain.
🌄 Where the Light Lingers
We stopped at one final overlook as the sun dipped low behind the ridges. The colors deepened, the sky dimmed, and the fog returned one last time — thicker now, almost like it was tucking the mountains in for the night.
I stood there beside my mom, both of us quiet, the air cool and damp around us.
And I felt something I hadn’t felt in a while: held.
By her. By the Earth. By the moment.
I realized that this is why I photograph.
Not to impress.
Not even to be understood.
But to remember.
To feel.
To help others feel too.
🌍 The Places That Keep Me Going
Skyline Drive is one of many sacred places that hold me.
So are…
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Luray Caverns, where the stillness echoes back things I didn’t know I needed to hear.
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Colonial Beach, where the sky meets the sea and everything feels softer — like time slows down to let me breathe.
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And every random countryside road I explore with my mom — the ones we don’t plan, the ones we stumble onto when we need quiet and beauty the most.
These places don’t ask me to be anything but exactly who I am.
They meet me where I’m at — seizures, fears, sensitivity and all — and remind me that I belong.
📸 Why I Create
Through Inez Photography, I create not to chase perfection, but to honor emotion.
To preserve the fleeting.
To reflect the wild.
To capture what most people overlook — a glance from a deer, a fog-drenched tree, a moment between a mother and daughter who’ve been through so much… and are still standing.
Photography is my voice.
Nature is my mirror.
And emotion is my guide.
💬 Let Me Ask You…
🦌 Have you ever had someone beside you on your journey who makes the beauty even easier to see?
🌫️ Have you ever watched fog and color move together and felt your heart do the same?
🌦️ Where do you go when the world feels heavy?
I’d love to know — or even just for you to sit with those questions and carry them with you.
Because you are not alone.
And beauty is still out there, waiting to meet you where you are.
With all the love I carry,
Amanda – Inez Photography
“Protector of the Wild. Survivor of Storms. Believer in Moments.”
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