About Blog Title...

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, November 8, 2013

Hunting Season...

for the white tails...tomorrow.  I hunt too...no license required.


  1. Beautiful. The shutter is better than the trigger!

  2. This photo is gorgeous!! It looks almost like a painting.

  3. This photo was taken late in the day, after sunset, so it is a bit fuzzy. But, there was so much I liked about it that I kept it. Thanks Kathleen and Charlotte for the visit!

  4. The photo
    so beautiful.
    I feel pain in my heart when I hear the distant gun shots.
    Woods are posted ?
    Why do they not obey.
    Even little Callie almost jumps in my lap :)