Growing up in central Florida, I used to sit out on the porch in the evenings and listen to the Whip Poor Will singing off in the distance with that rhythmic tune ringing in my ear as I drifted off into thoughts of the day. But sadly, it has become a distant memory. I haven't heard the soulful tune of the Whip now in better than 30 years and I only live a mile and a half from my childhood home.
My Dad started raising chickens, Bob White Quail, Ring Neck Pheasant. In hopes of eventually selling them to local restaurants. He made a few sales but that was about it. I was around 5-6 at the time. It was me and my brother's jobs to go out and feed and water all of those birds before we went to school and after school before supper. We even ended up with a few Peacocks, why I don't know, I guess he just liked peacocks. We ended up eating most of the birds and sold some to local breeders who also spent their time chasing rainbows. Hopefully they found their pot of gold, we never did.
Sorry for rambling on, but it just brought back memories for me, some fond and some not so much. Thanks for letting an old man digress.