Blessings for a Whippoorwill

~ rabbitpatchdiary.com

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Typically the forecast for April, is “rain, likely”  . . hence the saying. “April showers bring May flowers” – Today was no exception.  With that being said, I started a fire in the garden . . .again.  There is but one corner left now, to burn.  I put the house plants out to collect the rain.  Not long afterwards, a gentle rain began falling.

Christian was up early, as usual.  He took a look out and said “It’s a good day for you to write.”  I do not know why, but  I do especially, like to write when it is raining.  Rain hushes a farming community and so the rabbitpatch is quiet and so very conducive to  thinking great thoughts or entertaining notions, when it rains . and  I  do like to get still, more than ever these days. 

I grew up in a world, where you worked steadily and made the most of your time, but rushing was limited to bad weather coming, and clothes were on the line  or there were strawberries that had to be picked for company.  Rushing was not a habit, in those days. Now, we live in a world of convenience .  Folks, mostly buy their berries and very few yards have a clothes line.  Yet, everyone is in a hurry.  Porches are seldom occupied and supper is often from a bag . . and I declare, we have lost, something beautiful. 

Of course, in spring, I am least likely to rush.  I do not want to miss “the time of the singing of  birds” nor the sweetness in the air.  Should I live to see a hundred springs, I will not get my fill .

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Since, it was raining, I concentrated on housekeeping.  I made a bold decision.  I packed my winter clothes up – shoes and all.  (This is surely a testament that I believe in Spring . . . and the sale of the house. )  The only thing I have had to unpack, since my huge packing up, in the fall . . was my spring clothes.  I have been quite surprised, at this, for there are at least forty boxes, scattered through out the farmhouse.  They are in every corner, stacked neatly and labeled.  Of course, I have not made a trifle or done any decorating in a long while.  The china cabinet looks dismal, without a thing to brag about.  So do the bookshelves, but all and all, we have still lived comfortably. 

I tackled the linen closet next.  This was an easy task as I had at least cleaned it out.  Packing up the few extra sheets took no time.  In the meantime, a man came to fix the lawn mower.  The repairman was kind and fair, thankfully.   Though it was raining, he mowed a streak or two, to show me his success.  Now, I must wait, for a fair day. No matter, my enthusiasm, . . I will  mow  around the flowers .fe0f2bc97af47025a4bc3626d1bfed1f

Sunday was born like a lullaby, softly sung.  The birds did not even raise a ruckus as the light shyly ascended on the rabbit patch. Not long after, I rose, it started to rain.  I still love rain.  We have had the rainiest year on the local record, but this has not dimmed my love for rain a bit.  Of course, I love sunshine,  and clear bright evenings, but the sound of a gentle rain, has a beauty too.  Many times, I have planted flowers in a spring rain.  It is a an awful mess, but the best insurance of success with the young plants, that I know of.  I do not like to drive in rain, though.  

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 What delightful moments, the season affords!  On Monday, the first rose of the season, bloomed at the rabbit patch.  It is a fragrant , yellow rose and  was quite a surprise for me.  Another good thing about Monday, was that at long last, the rabbit patch territory got mowed.  I hummed as I cooked supper, listening to the sound of the mower.  (Kyle did the honors.)    How it lifted my heart to see the rabbit patch being restored to its’ former  glory.  There is still much left to be done, but there is less than there was.

On Tuesday, I heard a whippoorwill sing.  Few things are sweeter in the evening air, than the song of the whippoorwill.  He sings as if all is right in the world .  I remember clearly, listening to the whippoorwill, in the quiet evenings of childhood. In the lazy hours, after supper, we would often sit outside til dark. Mostly, the low hushed voices of the adults made me drowsy.  The later it got, the less anyone said anything.   We would always look for the first star and then the big dipper before we went in.

I doubt any one of us,  would have ever guessed that a half century later,  the simple substance of those evenings, would still be treasured- more so than any  “Kings’ ransom”.   or written about.  After all, no one could have convinced us, then, that “our way”  would be lost, nor that . . . those evenings in spring, would have made all the difference, for me.   Dear Diary,  Bless that whippoorwill,  that made me remember.

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27 thoughts on “Blessings for a Whippoorwill”

  1. Ma’am,
    The days after the Spring rains are the best of all . I am glad you witnessed the blooming of the first yellow rose. The quiet long days of summer brought to your mind by the call of the bird- somethings don’t change ma’am, perhaps as long as you have the rabbit patch inside ( and outside) of you,
    Susie

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  3. Like you, I love spring. In Maine, it comes ever so slowly, which makes it all the more precious. I have a clothesline in my backyard! Because we live in the woods, I can only use it from April through October. The first line-drying of the season will soon commence. Always an exciting time for me. Stay tuned!

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  4. Oh I love a gentle rain too but lately we have been having storms.Now I also enjoy listening to the thunder roll and the lighting peel but when real bad storms are in the forcast it is a different thing.
    New at Journey End is two baby kittens found out in the yard. Goodness…a mother cat must have lost her kittens and I really didn’t want to be a replacement kitten mom but Babe and I are doing our best. I even left them on the porch for a while hopeing one of the outside cats would realize her babies were not where they belong but no takers. So far so good but we will see.
    Grands had their first ballgames this week. I have to drive apiece but do need to be there when possible. This is Gabriels first time to play with a team pitcher..challenge to say the least. The girls are on Tball ( when needed) softball coached by their uncle and aunt with two cousins on the team..A family affair for sure.
    Another fun thing…Treelady Nursery ,where my husband worked for a while, ran afacebook ad from years ago. There was my dear with his famous garden hat. Did my heart good to see this .When I told Gabriel I had’ seen Grandpa today’ his eyes got big as saucers. Of course I explained to him but he enjoyed it.
    Resurrection Sunday coming up….REJOICE

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  6. What a beautiful post! I agree that something very precious has been lost in all our “hurrying” these days. Reading your blog is like going back in time to when things were simpler and far more satisfying.

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  7. I loved how Sunday was born—like a lullaby, softly sung. Your days are beautiful, and I enjoy your sharing of them. Rain, first rose, and a whippoorwill’s song—marvelous! John says there are whippoorwills that sing near the train club in TN. We don’t hear them at this house. We have wood thrushes, though, and I heard the first one this morning. It was trilling and thrilling.

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  8. Such a nice post. We use to hear the Whippoorwills in Arkansas all the time. It has been years since I have heard one. Must say rain has its benefits, but too much seems to lower one’s spirits. The garden is yet to be planted due to an over abundance of rain and more to come in a few days. But I agree slow, peaceful and lovely evenings are becoming a thing of the past in this fast paced world. Slow down everyone and smell the roses – it is good for the soul.

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  10. This is absolutely lovely Michele. I have a feeling my husband and I are living in the past. I hung sheets on the line outside today. We sat on the porch and enjoyed the beautiful spring weather. And yes…..on these sunny days we work steadily because we hear that rain is coming.
    The rhythm of life goes on and flows through this post.

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