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As a child, it was one of my greatest delights to visit my grandparents in the spring when the whip-poor-wills began to call. Grandma and Grandpa lived in a remote valley of the Ozark Mountains where there were trees a plenty, and, seemingly, a whip-poor-will, or two, in each one.
My grandmother insisted that a whip-poor-will's call was not "whip-poor-will," but instead, "chip-butter-white-oak." I would listen really hard trying to hear it exactly as she said it was, but all I could hear was "whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,..." But, I never let on to her.
I remember my grandpa watching and listening, with an amused look on his face, to one of these listening sessions. Shortly after that he began to call me, just for fun, "Chip Butter." It is a name I am proud to wear for I still love to hear that long, lonesome call on a warm summer's eve. And, sometimes, when I listen really, really hard, it seems I can hear quite clearly, "chip-butter-white-oak, chip-butter-white-oak..."


Monday, March 19, 2012

Spring...


"For thou, O Spring!  Canst renovate all that high God did first create."  Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Spring is a natural resurrection, an experience in immortality."  Henry David Thoreau



2 comments:

  1. Nice!! Did I see a little posion ivy leaf?

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  2. Yes, I think so. NO matter, these photos were taken in the valley along our fork of Granny Creek. Everything was just bursting with new growth...so beautiful!

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