Whip-poor-will!
Beth just returned from her summer family vacation to the lake. I envy her because spending my summers at a Canadian lake in Mulgrave-et-Derry was the high point of my life. Nothing will ever compare or build memories like those times.
Beth talked missing all the calls of the loon, stating she only saw one during her stay. I asked her about Whip-poor-wills and she has never heard them.
A whip-poor-will is a bird that I remember from my days in the North Country. I used to visit a friend that lived in the foot hills of the Adirondacks. He lived across the street from a cemetery that was a park-like piece of land with large hemlock and tamarack trees. Every evening the Whip-poor-wills would call through the still air. You would never see them since they are spotty masters of camouflage.
If you visit this site you can hear their call and you will realize how they got their name. Whip-poor-will Call
posted by The Guy Who Writes This at 4:00 AM
3 Comments:
I used to spend a week at my grandma's house each summer. One of the best memories I have is of lying in a featherbed listening to the whippoorwills sing me to sleep at dusk. About three years ago I was spending a night at my cabin and heard the call of a whippoorwill; it's the only time I've heard one in many years.
I believe we have those here. Or at least something that sounds amazingly like them anyway. And we gots tons of loons, but not the kind you're talking about. They sing, but not well.
Donna, it's part of the mosaic that makes life good. We don't have any out here. The Swanson Thrush is our evening bird and it has a totally enjoyable song. I posted on it last year.
Darev, Jail Birds?
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