National Feed the Birds Day: A Fond Memory.
Birds are magical, spiritual creatures to me, and mostly remind me of my Grandparents on the Harmon side. Fern and Francis were soulmates, teachers, lovers and explorers; the kindest of people. Each morning when you would awaken at Grandma Harmon's, you would smell coffee and bacon just as the Sun was peeping over the hill. Trains tooted in the distance and soft chatting could be heard as you moved your feet over the thick, soft carpet. Always greeting me with a soft hug that smelled of flowers, Grandma Fern would have a hot cocoa ready at the table for me. Grandpa was already there, almost done with his breakfast, but smiling at your arrival. I would look to the large window and out at all his bird-feeders and suddenly the room felt crowded. Hundreds of birds happily visited the morning window as we ate our breakfast.
Sometimes, I would ask about a bird I hadn't recognized. Together, my grandpa and I would look through the big bird book he kept on his counter by the sugar. We'd each read aloud as we learned something new and often times I would fake forgetting a name just to hear him speak. Grandpa Francis was full of wisdom but empty of arrogance, so getting him to break the silence without a fiddle was like prying open a snapping turtle's mouth. He and I shared a ton of inside jokes about the birds and even Grandma Fern's nightly reading of the Wind and the Willows would entertain new bird characters to our stories.
I never left Grandma and Grandpa Harmon's house without a ton of crafts. Puzzles widdled from scratch blocks in the garage or walking sticks carved during our weekend hike would be stuffed into the car when heading home. Snail shells, forest art, sketches of plants or recipes and usually a Sunday School craft of Jesus adorned the stack of fun bundled beneath my arms. Each fall, we would make bird feeders out of the extra pine cones we picked from the yard. If you happen to come across these while walking in the park and have a great place to dangle a biodegradable feeder from string, they make fun crafts.
String
Pine Cone
Peanut Butter - Coconut Oil - Edible Paste of some sort
Seeds
Sometimes, I would ask about a bird I hadn't recognized. Together, my grandpa and I would look through the big bird book he kept on his counter by the sugar. We'd each read aloud as we learned something new and often times I would fake forgetting a name just to hear him speak. Grandpa Francis was full of wisdom but empty of arrogance, so getting him to break the silence without a fiddle was like prying open a snapping turtle's mouth. He and I shared a ton of inside jokes about the birds and even Grandma Fern's nightly reading of the Wind and the Willows would entertain new bird characters to our stories.
I never left Grandma and Grandpa Harmon's house without a ton of crafts. Puzzles widdled from scratch blocks in the garage or walking sticks carved during our weekend hike would be stuffed into the car when heading home. Snail shells, forest art, sketches of plants or recipes and usually a Sunday School craft of Jesus adorned the stack of fun bundled beneath my arms. Each fall, we would make bird feeders out of the extra pine cones we picked from the yard. If you happen to come across these while walking in the park and have a great place to dangle a biodegradable feeder from string, they make fun crafts.
String
Pine Cone
Peanut Butter - Coconut Oil - Edible Paste of some sort
Seeds
Your grandparents are great people!
ReplyDeleteThank you Juju, I agree. I miss them daily!
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