Long ago, when the fireflies still lingered and the night sky sparkled, there was a song heard by few. It was the song of the whippoorwill, now just a fading memory. The memories of hearing a distant song while floating under the darkened sky are still in my mind. Not many know about the creature I once knew. Several years ago, its whistles and calls stopped. Only crickets chirped in the forest. The whippoorwill disappeared. Years of summer nights passed; not a call nor whistle could be heard. Where did it go? The bird of my childhood? The one we always heard so distinctly, the one that made us look up in wonder? Maybe it is only sleeping in the dark of the forest, to someday wake up and sing its melodies again.
I, too, thought that the Whippoorwill was a thing of the past only to be heard in my childhood memories. But I was recently up ontop of a mountain in Virginia where I heard the wonderful melody once more. I hope it is something I get to hear again and again as I enjoy the summer evenings up on that mountain.
Really? Here in Tennessee, I haven’t heard one for ages. Six years. I think some coyotes got the one we used to hear.