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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..."


Friday, October 26, 2012

Color Along the Bluff...



There was some nice fall color along the bluff when we were there a few days ago, but the peak won't happen for another week or so.  Hopefully, I will get another opportunity to get out with my camera, and if I am lucky, I just might get another shot of the bluff when the color is at its best. 






1 comment:

  1. Very interesting post. I love all the archaeological information. I assume they were native Amerian Indians. Brave indeed to climb those cliffs. There is evidence left of the Indians in my neck of the woods too. I sometimes find arrowheads at the Swan Creek below the cabin. The photos are stunning......looking forward to the peak photos!

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