Training wheels on bicycles and schooling have common shortcomings.  Each help to get your running gear in operation, but fall short in the educational process of evolution.  Once you are deemed capable of ambulating the unpaved travel of the road of life you might find that scars and scrapes ensue unto many a sojourner along the way.  At least, that has been my experience and I can show you the collection of alterations amassed in my haphazard trip of miles and years.

For instance, my old grandmother, on my mother’s side of the union that put me in motion, was of American Indian persuasion and she was quite generous in sharing her accumulated lore on the capricious tendencies of nature.

Crow Poison lore is a fine example that she entrusted to me.  Most likely the little plant has a scientific name in Latin, but I do not have a clue nor the curiosity to cipher it out.

To the untrained eye it looks a lot like the cover crop out in the low lands of Onion Valley—but there is a vast difference in the behavior of the two plants.

Wild onions have long running careers, while Crow Poison has cameo bits in the summer months of the year.  It pops up through had packed soil overnight and in its brief span of life is spent growing to a six to twelve inch of spindly stem and a single white blossom that awaits the rain that will fall upon it within a three to five days passage.  That small plant has a higher rating in the rain predictful accuracy than David Finfrock or any of his predecessors.

Scoff as you will but there are several acquaintances of mine who have ceased claiming that I am loco in the cabeza.  Boomer Nowlin is one of that number.

On August 3, 2008 he and I stood and conversed on the dry spell of July, but there was a new growth of Crow Poison sprouts festooning my lawn, and we smiled as we beheld the phenomena.

Boomer has observed Crow Poison for the past several years and is convinced that the little bulb plant has seldom been inaccurate in its appearances.

“It may rain on our parade,” I mused.  “And that is next Wednesday.”

“Or maybe as early as Tuesday.” he observed.

On Wednesday, August 6, 2008, a four inch rain fell upon the arid terrain of De Leon.  Next day the Crow Poison had vanished back into the earth.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063.

My postal address is 333 W. Ayers, De Leon TX 76444.

You can e-mail me at Charles@CharlesChupp.com.

By Charles Chupp, Copyright ©2008 Charles Chupp