The road to Butterfly Cove lead through Atlanta. We longed for less. Less noise. Less traffic. Less ambient light. We also longed for more. More time with family. More peace. More quiet. More greenspace with a babbling brook trickling through the land. The Mountains that raised us pulled us home. We purchased my grandmother’s farm in the Western North Carolina mountains, which she managed solo for decades. On this little strip of country, we discovered a bounty of medicinal plants growing on the property. It has been said, “the mountains are healers.” Here at Butterfly Cove, we believe that to be true. Our little farm isn’t palatial; it is a peaceful paradise, a tiny slice of heaven on earth where we can unplug from the world and plug into the mountains.

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