Poetry about the beauty, heritage and history of the Blue Ridge Mountains of western North Carolina appear on this blog.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Evening of the Rain Crow
I heard the rain crow cooing
in the distance this evening,
as the sun sank crimson
and honking geese formed a wedge
behind the Shewbird Mountain.
He perches in barren oak
whose crisp leaves rustle golden
and brown to the frozen ground below.
I hear his shrill caw
resounding still through
chilled October quiet,
and know that by night
silver droplets will begin.
--Brenda Kay Ledford
This poem first appeared in Appalachian Heritage Magazine.
During the early 1900's, farmers in the Blue Ridge Mountains had no radios, televisions, iPhones, computers, no modern technology, to listen to the weather forecast. They depended upon the signs of nature including the rain crow or mourning dove cooing to predict rain.
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14 comments:
Lovely poem, Brenda. I've never heard the mourning dove called a rain crow before. That's new to me. Beautiful colors in that fall tree photo too!
How interesting! I love the poem. I didn't know farmers used to listen to the call of the mourning dove in expectation of rain. We have a rich history in the Appalachians. Have a great week!
I think, here in the Ozark foothills, we still take note of the tree frog's songs, sun dogs, and the rain crow. I don't have, or use, a cell phone.
Beautiful poem, Brenda. I had no idea the mourning doves coos predicted rain!
Even my grandfather planted his garden according to the signs of nature. Brenda, that is a beautiful poem!
Even my grandfather planted his garden according to the signs of nature. Brenda, that is a beautiful poem!
Oh, I love your poem,Brenda. I learned something new today.
Lovely poem. Don't you love Autumn?
Beautiful dove...
And your poetry...super!!!
Oh I love this one so much. Yes, we've always called them the Rain Crow. Old timers always said it's gonna rain when they heard it.
Thank you so much for the beautiful card and tell your mother thanks for me. It was so nice of you and means alot.
i think we've lost a lot of nature's cues generation to generation. rather sad.
Lovely poem. Guess it's regional, but in the mountains here the cuckoo rather than the mourning dove is the rain crow. I've heard them in our woods but never seen one.
Brenda, It's nice to meet you here in blog land. Thank you for stopping by my blog. I appreciate your kind and encouraging words! Lovely poetry~ Blessings, Cindy
Thank you for sharing the lovely and interesting poem!
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