Deep in a forgotten forest within sight of a nameless ridge, a beech tree wears a set of initials, evidence of a moment shared between a father and a son.
A grandmother’s depiction of a favorite swimming spot preserves a moment in shades of yesteryear.
The notion of pulling tobacco is much more romantic than the reality of working in the fields.
What’s in a name? A lot: This bird’s moniker describes its appearance and how it fishes.
It’s easy to get lost in the enigma of Carolina Bays, but even easier to explore these mysterious bodies of water.
Ridgetops and river bends. Tiny churches and a luxury spa. Book-lined rooms. Garden paths. Sooner or later we crave these places, these somewheres of healing and hope, solitude and stillness. In March 2015, we went searching for North Carolina’s unexpected havens of fulfillment.
How can a singular beacon represent so much? Our seven lighthouses powerfully reflect our own values — of innovation, endurance, and strength.
The American chestnut ruled our forests for centuries, but a killer blight made up of microscopic spores needed only 50 years to wipe the giant from the face of North America. But we still have buildings made from it, and we still have people pulling for it. An organization based in Asheville wants to bring it back from memory and make the chestnut stand tall again.
Rivers tell our story, from the earth’s early rotations when rains started wearing down our mountains and carving paths to the oceans, to contemporary North Carolina, where rivers nutured native settlements and sprouted towns. And they still beckon us, sending us downstream in a rush or ushering us along tranquil passages.