From My Diary, May 21,1984

May 21, 1984–Monday night–8:50 p.m.

The spring rain is barely over.  Trees drip with water. Lightning flashes across the night sky and thunder sounds in the distance.  A whippoorwill calls — clear, sweet chords that remind me of my childhood. Thank you, Lord, for whippoorwills. May all my children have a whippoorwill to listen to, sometime, during their lifetime.

© Freeda Baker Nichols

Eastern Whip-poor-will

5 comments on “From My Diary, May 21,1984

  1. Catherine Johnson says:

    Thanks for sharing that Freeda. I don’t think I have seen one. They look very sweet.

    Like

  2. patlaster says:

    I haven’t heard a whippoorwill since a housing addition was built on the land surrounding our house. I loved the sound and would like to hear them call again.

    Like

  3. We would listen to them at night while playing outside or sitting in the yard…Loved their sound that echoed their name…
    Is that a photo of one…never had seen…

    Like

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