April 19, 2011
For you sleep lovers out there this is going to sound weird…I was so excited when I heard my first whippoorwill of the season EARLY Monday morning around 3:oo A. M. I had to check on Ammon who evidently had a bad dream, and as I returned to bed, I heard the whippoorwill. I crept to our back door closest to the mountain, propped myself up against the door, and listened sleepily to the bird’s call. Why was I excited? Well, for several reasons. First of all, I love nature. My great-great-great grandfather was ½ Cherokee (some say ¾) Indian. I know him simply as Grandpa Edwards (Pap Eddards they use to say). I believe I speak for quite a few of us when I say that there’s a sort of genetic encoding where nature beckons to us when we have Cherokee blood. Secondly, my father (Oliver Haven Caylor) who lived from 1939 to 1982 and was a part of my Cherokee ancestry always said that the “warm spring” was officially here with the first call of the whippoorwill. Lastly, I love the whippoorwill call itself. As I listened early Monday morning, I had warm memories of Daddy, enjoyed the whippoorwill’s call, smiled, and returned to bed where a delicious “return to slumber” awaited.
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