Those are the words that herald in spring, and give us hope for summer. It is the magical song of the chuck will's widow. Just after the sun sets, before the first star appears; while there is still enough light to see; when the world is at its most peaceful, softest time... From the trees comes the loud clear tone of "whip-werl.. whip-wherl".
I remember the first time Dave and I heard him. His song sounds so much like "whip-poor-will", that we were sure that was what he was. But after some internet searches, we learned that the whip-poor-will has an entirely different call. Our friend was the Chuck Will's Widow.
And now, every year, right around that time of year when the end of school is in sight, and it is almost the deep breath of summer, he returns. Sigh.
Tonight, D and I stood outside and listened to him for a half of an hour. He'd come closer, then move further away. At one point, I was sure there were two of them. There may be. I know in the past I've heard two songs - one from the front woods, and the other the back. Tonight, if there were two, they were close together. One or two, I don't know, but it was a night of magic. :o)
One day, I'd love to catch a glimpse of him. But until then, I will enjoy his song of promise!
As if dusk weren't already the perfect time of day...