“This is it,” Dad proclaimed proudly as he pulled Mom faster up the road. They were taking an early morning walk to see the land Dad and Grandpa Russell had just leased, where we would build our summer cabins. “The property starts down there by the creek, and includes the meadow, hillside, and the top part of the hill on the west side of the road."
Mom was puffing by the time they climbed to the top of the hill, but Dad pulled her along, across a flat area, to the edge.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Mom was speechless. It was beautiful! They were standing on a gently sloping ledge jutting westward out of the mountain. It made a flat shelf , not very big, covered with pine needles.
“This is where we’ll build our cabin,” Dad explained. The hill fell away under their feet, down to the pretty little meadow covered with last years tall grass. He pointed straight down. “We’ll dig a well down there, in the middle. The folks are going to clear the meadow and put in a garden. They'll build their cabin on the back end of the place, and Uncle Tillis is going to build his up by the road. I told you he wants to go in on the property with us, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I love this place, Ralph! It’s just beautiful!”
They stood, looking out over the meadow toward the north. They could see where the creek would be, under a forest of oak, sycamore, and black willow trees. Beyond the trees rose a long, flat topped mountain, the east end of it falling away in a jagged cliff. Next to it, more mountains rose out of the forest. To the west, they gazed into the tops of tall sycamore trees.
“During the summer this will be the most beautiful view of all,” Dad predicted. “It will be a sea of green. If you look carefully, you can see the creek down there under the trees. You can hear it, too.”
Mom listened for a second, spell bound. She could hear the gurgle of the creek as it rushed along, almost hidden beneath the sound of the wind in the pines, the call of crows and blue birds, and the enormous silence of the forest. No wonder Ralph and his dad had fallen in love with this place!
When they got back to the campground they found Keith and Gale already awake, playing happily. Grandma Russell was holding Gale on her lap, she was only a year-and-a-half old, and still prone to falling over rocks and bumpy patches of ground. Keith, on the other hand, was three now, and he could go most anywhere. At the moment, he was helping Grandpa Russell add wood to the fire. Both of them were still in their winter sleepers, a little dirtier than when they were put to bed, but good and warm. Grandma had also bundled Gale up in a big quilt. Keith was wearing his jacket.
One of the things mom liked best about camping was that Dad did the cooking. By the time she had the kids changed into play clothes and bundled up in jackets and hats, the bacon was sizzling and the eggs were frying. It smelled wonderful!
“Who’s ready for breakfast?” Dad asked as they came out of the tent. “Me me me me me!” shouted Keith, while Gale smiled and toddled over towards the fire.
“Not too close,” Mom warned as she picked Gale up and sat her down on one of the chairs next to the camp table. “Keith, come sit down so we can get you your breakfast. You sound hungry!”
Quickly Keith scrambled up into a chair, and Dad brought the food over to put on the plates.
“This looks delicious,” mom praised. “If you promise to make breakfast every time we come up to the mountains, I’ll want to come all the time.”
“It’s a deal,” dad promised enthusiastically, as he dished scrambled eggs onto their plates.
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