An’ Noah walkin’ away down the river.
He don’ know what’s there.
He jus’ don’ know.
An’ we don’ know.
We ain’t never gonna know if he’s alive or dead.
Never gonna know.
An’ Connie sneakin’ away.
I didn’ give ’em brain room before, but now they’re a-flockin’ back.
An’ I oughta be glad ’cause we’re in a nice place.” Pa watched her mouth while she talked.
Her eyes were closed. “I can remember how them mountains was, sharp as ol’ teeth beside the river where Noah walked.
I can remember how the stubble was on the groun’ where Grampa lies.
I can remember the choppin’ block back home with a feather caught on it, all criss-crossed with cuts, an’ black with chicken blood.”
Pa’s voice took on her tone.
“I seen the ducks today,” he said.
“Wedgin’ south—high up.
Seems like they’re awful dinky.
An’ I seen the blackbirds a-settin’ on the wires, an’ the doves was on the fences.” Ma opened her eyes and looked at him.
He went on, “I seen a little whirlwin’, like a man a-spinnin’ acrost a fiel’.
An’ the ducks drivin’ on down, wedgin’ on down to the southward.”
Ma smiled.
“Remember?” she said.
“Remember what we’d always say at home? ‘Winter’s a-comin’ early,’ we said, when the ducks flew.
Always said that, an’ winter come when it was ready to come.
But we always said,
‘She’s a-comin’ early.’
I wonder what we meant.”
“I seen the blackbirds on the wires,” said Pa. “Settin’ so close together.
An’ the doves.
Nothin’ sets so still as a dove—on the fence wires—maybe two, side by side.
An’ this little whirlwin’—big as a man, an’ dancin’ off acrost a fiel’.
Always did like the little fellas, big as a man.”
“Wisht I wouldn’t think how it is home,” said Ma. “It ain’t our home no more.
Wisht I’d forget it.
An’ Noah.” “He wasn’t ever right—I mean—well, it was my fault.”
“I tol’ you never to say that.
Woudn’ a lived at all, maybe.”
“But I should a knowed more.”
“Now stop,” said Ma. “Noah was strange.
Maybe he’ll have a nice time by the river.
Maybe it’s better so.
We can’t do no worryin’.
This here is a nice place, an’ maybe you’ll get work right off.”
Pa pointed at the sky.
“Look—more ducks.
Big bunch.
An’ Ma, ‘Winter’s a-comin’ early.”’
She chuckled.
“They’s things you do, an’ you don’ know why.”
“Here’s John,” said Pa. “Come on an’ set, John.”
Uncle John joined them.