Whispers of Tennessee: A Family Journey Through Green Hills and Rainy Roads
At the edge of June, we traded the salt and rhythm of Miami for the hush of Tennessee hills. We stayed in Kingston Springs, tucked away in a house that felt more like a gentle invitation than a rental. Decorated in the quiet luxury of Restoration Hardware tones—linen sofas, soft neutrals, moody lighting—it had a piano in the corner, a banjo hanging on the wall, and a guitar leaning in wait. Music felt like part of the architecture.
Mornings started slowly. Steam curled from coffee mugs while rabbits hopped across the dewy front lawn like they owned the place. The kids played in socked feet, chasing each other between wooden beams and window light. It was a different rhythm—a little looser, a little softer.
We wandered.
To Nash Family Creamery, where the day began not with dessert, but with dirt, grass, and the earthy heartbeat of a working farm. We took a tour first, tracing the path from pasture to table. We stood beside calm-eyed cows being milked, watched calves nuzzle in the shade, and learned the quiet mechanics of how milk becomes memory. Afterward, we rewarded ourselves with grilled cheese sandwiches on thick slices of bread, buttery and warm, and ice cream under the sun—melting just fast enough to make you grateful.
To Franklin, with its Main Street charm and antique storefronts, perfect for walking hand-in-hand under a shifting sky.
To Leiper’s Fork, where Americana lives and breathes—a town that feels like the past isn’t gone, just slower.
The distillery there offers grown-ups a taste of smoke and spice.
There were bursts of city too. We made our way into Nashville—Broadway for neon chaos and live guitars that spilled onto the street, 12 South for boutiques and donuts.
The rain met us there, warm and sudden, washing over concrete and laughter alike. We didn’t mind. We ducked into shops and soaked it all in. Sunshine returned in time to dry our shoes.
The trip wasn’t polished or perfect, but it was textured—soft where it needed to be, rough around the edges where memories are made. Rain and music, road trips and naps, and sticky fingers from melting chocolate.
Tennessee gave us space to just be—together, quiet, loud, curious.
And that little house in Kingston Springs? It gave us something else: a pause. A way to hold the summer in our hands before it slipped too far ahead.
Shot entirely on Kodak Portra 400 35mm film with a Leica MP, these photos showcase the rich tones and nostalgic feel of film photography across rural and urban Tennessee.
Developed and scanned by Palm Film Lab in Miami, FL.