Jimmy F. Blackmon
Along the cascading headwaters of Big Creek, where mountain laurel shades the journey of rolling spring water bound for lowland rivers. Where the night song of water tumbling over rocks sings a comforting hymn of friendship rekindled. Silvertip, where the lush green backdrop of the Chattahoochee invites the soul to ponder meaning. Where deep dark pools are cut with light as rainbows roll on mayflies ere evening falls. For far too long our paths divided, kindred spirits reunited.