It’s an Alabama kind of night. The Flower Moon is full as full can be, and I heard the season’s first whippoorwills right after sunset. The magnolia tree in my yard is in full bloom, and somewhere Jimmy Buffett is wondering where his salt shaker is. Tonight I’m pondering whippoorwills and an old jazz standard.
Stars Fell on Alabama was written originally in 1934 and refers to the spectacular Leonid meteor shower of 1833. It’s been performed by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Billie Holliday and Alabama’s own Jimmy Buffett, among many, many others (the Buffett version is the local favorite, but sadly I can’t find a copy of it anywhere on the ‘net to share with you). The lyrics of that song have never felt more right than they feel tonight:
A feather from the Whippoorwill
That everlasting—sings!
Whose galleries—are Sunrise—
Whose Opera—the Springs—
Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
Of mellow—murmuring thread—
Whose Beryl Egg, what Schoolboys hunt
In “Recess”—Overhead!
- Emily Dickinson
Many songs have been written about whippoorwills. They’re a melancholy set, a type of nightjar, rarely ever seen even when the season’s right. Some say they are the harbingers of death; the Iriquois believed they’d turned a frog into the moon. Here’s a YouTube video of the distinctive whippoorwill song:
There’s a reason people come here and stay, because in spite of its troubled past, it’s still a wonderful, beautiful place to live. Sometimes it’s downright magical.
If you liked that post, then try these...
Sometimes the Blues Hits Like Bricks on June 3rd, 2008
Cognito is a strange place on August 20th, 2008
etc. on June 4th, 2008
Tower Dogs on July 21st, 2008
Henry Miller on June 9th, 2008
