My dad made elderberry wine, by the kegs. But the elderberry wine was 
bitter (berries just fine for breakfast on oatmeal though). Then old 
Earl Koontz, our neighboring farmer, told us about elderblow wine (using 
just the blossoms). The elderberry bushes grew thick along the 
meandering banks of Weeping Water Crick, near Elmwood, between Omaha and 
Lincoln. We'd get a start with first light on a warm June morning, 
putting the canoe in at Grampa's Woods (just north of Earl's place) 
paddling up stream all morning as long as the cool air lasted, past the 
village of Wabash as far east as the limestone quarries. Then, after a 
swim in the cold quarry pit and lunch on the rock ledge, we'd drift back 
to the Woods. The elder bushes hung out over the water, so we'd bring 
the canoe along underneath, beat the blosoms off with the paddles, with 
them falling right into the canoe. It sounds quite pleasant as I write 
about it, but it was hard nasty work. By June in eastern Nebraska it's 
hot and muggy, and we'd be battling the bugs and bees for that sweet 
elder nectar. I suppose we were stealing it from them, so no wonder they 
hated us. We'd pour water on our shirts soaking wet,so the bugs wouldn't 
get us too bad. But had to keep the crick water off the elderblow--no 
splashing with the paddles. Once in a while there'd be a paper-wasp nest 
in the elders--YEOOOOOWWWWWW, everybody overboard.

By evening we'd drifted back to the Woods with the canoe up to the 
gunnels with elder blow--10 or 15 bushelsfull anyways. That'd make 3 or 
4 kegs of elder blow wine by early the next winter. We'd always drop a 
keg off at Earl's. Old Earl Koontz live along on his farm, but all his 
kids and grand kids would visit at Christmas to help him drink it up.

We did that for 6 or 8 years, the late '50 through the mid-60's. Then 
something changed in the water or the air and the elderblow kinda 
petered out. Earl always thought it was 'cause they changed from solid 
granulated fertilizer to liquid anhydrous amonia. He'd been farming 
there since 1916, so I spose he'd know.

I went by the Woods and Earl's place last November, when I was at the 
preservation conference in Omaha. Earl pass away back in the '70s, but I 
thought I'd just take a look-see. Earl's place was pulled down with a 
MacMansion in it's place. I walked up the lane and knock on the door. 
The young couple there were real nice, we sat on their plastic deck, 
looking out over the crick bottoms, sipping capachinos. There were bird 
books and plant identificaiton books on the table. They take daily runs 
along the crick, but have never seen an elderberry bush.

The crick still meanders off to the eastern horizon, well named, I think 
to myself: Weeping Water.


John
by hammer and hand great works do stand
by pen and thought best words are wrought

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