Is there anything more peaceful than a quiet morning in the mountains? I am sitting on the porch of Janet and Don’s cabin in Blue Ridge waiting for Janet to get dressed. The sun lies in ribbons across the creek, which slides silently by in front of me but gets rambunctious just downstream. I can hear it.

I have been here since Saturday. We are keeping in close touch with Jo Ellen, the only one of our group of friends who couldn’t make it this time. Her mother is in the hospital in Tampa, and we are all worried.

It has been a time of lingering lunches, quiet talks, and evening walks along the clay road that winds up to the cabin from Blue Ridge. I have been reminded of the value of old friends, the nurture and security we offer one another. How fortunate we are if we can count even five people who know us intimately - and love us anyway.

The hummingbirds are buzzing past me in aerial combat over the feeder hanging from the eave. I’m afraid they’re going to lose their sense of direction in the heat of battle and smack me in the head.

Janet has just opened the door behind me. She’s ready to go get lunch in town. I will leave Blue Ridge for Athens after I go with her to get her hair cut. She’s trying a new stylist whom we both interviewed yesterday. She needs some hand-holding. Like most of us women, Janet’s day goes as well as her hair looks. Here’s hoping.

Friends are all dear to me.