Whispers of the Heart

Listen carefully and the words will speak to you

The Bubbleheads

    "Listen Nana" I heard little Daisy yell across the lawn as she came flouncing at me bubbling over with excitement, "it's the bubbleheads, they are back!" "Oh, you mean Buffleheads, yes, they are back to welcome in winter with us" I listened and heard the rhythmic "crawk" as I saw two of them land on the shore nearby. "The rest of the flock will be here soon, it seems like they always send two out ahead of the rest". Daisy really didn't hear what I was telling her, she was too intent of trying to go down to the beach and try to sneak up on the ducks. She always had a fondness toward the fowl that came to visit us, even the seagulls, against my constent protest, she would sneak outdoors with cereal and toast and throw it out for them to come and eat. I found it very difficult to get upset over watching her eyes sparkle as they would all flock down fairly close to her and enjoy the tidbits she had thrown.
"Look Nana" she would say "they are all eating their breakfast like good birds, they can have desert later", and later they did, she would run down again and give them apple peels, potato peels, bread, pretty much anything that I wanted to throw away she would throw out to the gulls.
   This morning had started like any other. We had gotten up and had our breakfast and ventured outdoors to check the garden for last pickings for brussel sprouts and squash before the winter frost came and totally took our crop. Daisy loved to go out to the garden with me and pick vegetables and then we would walk the beach and find 'buried treasures' as she would call them.
   Daisy and I had spent our last three summers this way, watching the flocks of ducks, seagulls, an occasional loon, seal or whale in the waters and picking up beach treasures and making gifts for her to give on the holidays. She was now five years old and I didn't think this summer would be any different. We would start our morning off on the veranda watching the ocean sweep calmly on the shore, the morning fishermen going for the daily catch and then we'd get dressed and head out on our treasure hunt. Pail and shovel in hand she would stroll along wanting to pick up every little parcel of broken shell she found. I'd showed her how to look for the bubbles in the sand, search for sand dollars and try to get shells that were complete, however, we always managed to bring home a pail of pieces also which she would turn into mosaic art for the neighbors nearby. She'd put her artwork up for sale and managed to sell enough weekly to make at least two extra trips to the local ice cream shop.

Cotton Candy Surprise

 Sunday afternoons were our usual weekly trip to Seaside Ice Cream. After breakfast we packed a picnic lunch and headed out to the shore road to go looking for "treasures". Along the way if you looked out to the east all you saw was open waters beyond the jagged rocks that acted as a barrier to keep the ocean off of the roadway. Looking to the west you could see an occasional summer home between fields of flowers, many trees and open fields. We had been fortunate that our town was not invaded by heavy building industry as of yet.
When we arrived at Seaside, Daisy was out of her buckle and ready to run for the window faster than I could barely turn off the car.
"Patience my Daisy girl"
"but Nanna, they will run out of ice cream!"
"They have plenty, now let's go see what you'd like today."
We walked up to the windows were there were lots of poster-like pictures of many kinds of icecream sundaes, cones and novelties.
"Would you like Chocolate or Vanilla?
"Cotton Candy Surprise!" she excitedly stated.
"Ok, Cotton Candy Surprise it is" I said as I nodded to the young lady behind the window, "and we'll take that in a dish please with the cone on top. I'd like a small Praline Pecan on a sugar cone please also."
She made our ice creams and we went over to the picnic table to sit down and eat our delights. The sun was shining very hot and bright today, not the kind of weather for a cone really, I found myself having to eat much faster than I'd desire, but Daisy was enjoying hers in her dish and that is what mattered.
Ice creams finished, cleaned up hands and face and we were ready for our Sunday adventures. It was always fun to explore up the coast from home and on this day we were going to go farther than we'd gone before, to the little town of Eastpoint, the furthest most eastern point in Maine. We had a few more hours to drive before we would get there and many stops to make along the way.


Why do they call it a "Flea" market?

 Flea Market 2 miles ahead the sign read.
"Why do they call it a "Flea" market? Nanna? They don't even have any fleas."
"That is a question that many have asked Daisy, not sure myself why, but I sure am glad that there are not any fleas there" I responded with a light chuckle.
"Me too" Daisy replied.
We pulled into our first Flea Market of the day, there were about one hundred vendors here all set up with their treasures for us to look at. Deciding where to begin was going to be an adventure in itself.