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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..."


Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Long Night's Moon of 2013...


as seen from our neck of the woods.  Also known as the "cold" moon, it is said to be the most distant and visually smallest moon of the year. 











Even the cattle seem to be watching (I think they were actually watching me)...





 


3 comments:

  1. You live in a beautiful place. Your photos of nature are great.

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  2. I just love how blue the night sky looks. I''ve never seen that before. Beautiful!!

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