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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Nature >> ID #1487417 |
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I was born and raised inside a city.
Uncle Travis thinks that’s a real pity. It seems I know little country folklore, and Travis wants me to learn a lot more. Today he taught me how the ripe seeds from persimmons predict the winter to come-- whether it’ll be mild, snowy, or have ice. It acts as Nature’s forecasting device. The dark seed is cracked open in halves, revealing what shape its light embryo has. Either a spoon, fork, or knife will be seen. Already I’m intrigued; I find this keen. If a spoon is there, winter will be mild, not too cold, with mostly rain—nothing wild. If a fork is seen, winter’ll be a bit worse. With a couple of snowstorms, we’ll be cursed. Should a knife be there, winter’ll be quite cold, with much snow and even ice storms foretold. Here in Louisiana our winters are tame; winter every year’s pretty much the same. Uncle Travis learned this folklore from his dad seventy years back when Travis was a lad. Louisiana old-timers swear this works well, for predicting winter’s harshness the seeds excel. Today we opened a persimmon seed. We saw a spoon clear as day, both agreed. Winter this year will be mild it predicts. It is strange how country folk get their kicks!
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