“Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There? Book IV: Grandmother #49. Drumlin Woods Aflame

Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?

By Kate Chamberlin

As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.

Book IV:  Grandma Grace

#43. Charles and David

#44. Grandma Grace’s S’mores

#45. Green Trillium In May

#46.  Search For Boy And Dog

#47.  The Hollow Tree

#48. So many Flowers

#49. Drumlin Woods Aflame

“I’m ready to go,” Liam announced.

“Do you have warm clothes and a coat?” His mother asked.

“Check,” Liam said.

“Do you have your hat and hiking boots?” Sarah asked.

“Check,” Liam said again, resisting the urge to add: If it’s any of your business.

Liam woke up in the car as they crested the last ridge to Grandma’s farm and looked out the window.

“The woods is on fire!” Liam exclaimed, instantly awake and alarmed.

“Look again,” Sarah said. “The sun woke up before you did and has lit all the tree tops.”

“It does look like the woods are on fire,” Mom said. “The Maple and Beech tree

leaves are just at their peak color now and that sun sure does light them up.

“What was that poem Granddad used to say? …Something, something…before the foliage flies, there’s brightness in the trees and fire in the leaves.

“Oh, look. There’s Grandma putting up our American flag.”

The farm kitchen smelled of fresh, baked bread and fall foliage as the sun light and family streamed in.

After a big breakfast and the dishes were washed, Grandma said, “Let’s put some trail mix in our backpacks and go for a hike. I have a special place to show you.”

There were no objections from Sarah or Liam. For once they agreed on something, but then again, things were always different at Grandma’s.

The fall sunlight warmed the tops of their heads as wispy, white clouds scampered in the cobalt sky. It was a day for whistling, so they did.

Suddenly, Liam raced off into the meadow and shouted, “Sarah, look what has happened to the milkweeds,”

“Oh, Grandma,” Sarah said, “most of the milkweed pods have burst and fluffy seeds are blowing everywhere.”

“Let’s carefully pick off the pods that have already spread their seeds, but the halves are still attached,” Grandma suggested. “After they’re thoroughly dried, we can use them as the wings on our corn-husk angels.”

“Grandma,” Liam marveled as he pulled up a tall plant, root and all, “what little bird could ever be small enough to use this nest?”

“That is actually a Queen Anne’s Lace, Liam,” Grandma said. Do you see the tiny bird in the bottom?”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “Cool.”

“It smells like there are carrots around here,” Sarah stated.

“Well, another name for the Queen Anne’s Lace is Wild Carrot.” Grandma explained.

While they munched their trail mix, they looked around for more matches to the Yew-Go-Wild cards. They saw hundreds of butterflies had congregated on the Goldenrod and Asters in preparation for their migration to Mexico. Liam tried to catch one of every color leaf as they fell from the Maple trees and match his palm to find a perfect fit. They even argued over which of the Beech trees was the tallest and had the smoothest bark.

Later that evening as they toasted marshmallows over a camp fire near the pond, Grandma said, Isn’t this great? I love having you all come to the farm. Every season is special here, even in the dead of winter.”

“Why? There’s nothing to do here in the winter,” Liam said. “At home, we go swimming at the YMCA all winter long.”

“Our pond freezes over and we go ice skating,” Grandma said. “And when the snow blankets the bog and lines the bare tree branches and dried weed stalks, we strap on our snow shoes and follow the animal tracks in the snow. It is so quiet here that the only sounds we hear are made from our skates scraping on the ice or snowshoes shushing along the snow drifts.

“Our breath comes out in puffs and seems to turn to ice crystals in an instant. Occasionally, a tree will make such a loud crack as it splits with the deep-freezing temperatures, that we fear hunters are in the woods. If we keep the birdfeeder full, all kinds of winter birds come to visit, even when the roads are too icy for cars to get through. We spend long hours poring over the seed catalogues, repairing the tractor, and snuggling under the warm quilts I made when your mother was a little girl. When we hear the brook that feeds the pond, gurgle beneath the ice. Then, we know spring can’t be far behind.”

Sarah chose a quilt for her souvenir and Liam chose a pair of snowshoes.

As the car pulled out of the lane for the long ride home, Liam could turn just enough in his seatbelt to wave to Grandma Grace and Granddad out of the back window. Then, he closed his eyes to dream of being a mighty tracker of the elusive Snow Shoe Rabbit. It never entered his dream that it would be the last he’d see his grandparents.