An August ritual in our Southern mountains is to collect beans in a jar, one for every fog in August. Local weather folklore says that for every fog in August there will be a snowfall that coming winter. Every August we collect beans in a jar. And remove a bean every time there is measurable snowfall that winter. Taking into account that weather conditions can vary widely depending on what side of a ridge you are on, or your elevation, or even if you are in the Eastern or Western part of the county, and all of these factors put together, our bean count from observation from our house, has always been very close to the measurable snowfalls we see in winter. By the 30th of August there were 8 beans in our jar. But then we had a fog later that day. And again on the morning of the 31st. So I was a little too eager to declare a final bean count this year, hoping, I suppose, for not too many snowy days this coming winter.
1 comment:
Love the story of the fog and beans, Ann. Love that old folklore still finds a place in this modern world. Your jar piece is wonderful and that painting of the blue moon sky on the parkway? Exquisite! I love that sky and the colors of the moon bleeding through.
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