Hungry Hollow

My farrier's just paid me a visit, and as usual, the conversation included a good deal about how our pasture "renovation" is coming along.  He's lived in this area since birth, about a half mile away as the crow flies.

 

This morning he told me that the old timers of his childhood used to call the little valley below us where he lives "Hungry Hollow." 

 

It wouldn't grow anything edible.  Said the soil was so poor, “It wouldn’t raise hell with two six-shooters and a bottle of whiskey.”