I have a friend (we'll call him Casey) who is a quintessential "mountain man" -- 80 years of age and of Cherokee Indian heritage. Except for a tour in the Navy during the Korean War, where he participated in the Inchon Invasion, Casey has lived in the Great Smoky Mountains all his life. He now resides alone down the road from our vacation cabin here at Critter Creek.
Earlier this year Casey stopped by the cabin for a visit. Our conversation soon turned to the weather and the drought that was afflicting so much of the country. I told him I was concerned that the lack of rain would soon dry up our spring-fed creek and the four ponds on the property. He said: "Don't worry. I'll get out my rain stick tonight."
That night, it started to rain. It rained so hard that the creek rose over its banks and washed one of the foot bridges from its moorings, carrying it downstream across the third pond and into the fourth.
A few days later I happened to see Casey at the local general store. With a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, he looked at me and said, "How did you like that rain the other night?"
Not being one to tempt fate, I just said, "Thank you, Casey, and please keep tapping that stick."
Since then we've had more rain in this area than the annual average, the creek is running fast, and the four ponds are full. Why? I don't know, but one thing I do know is that I intend to stay in good standing with Casey.
