Sunday at the grama grampa house
Was not complete without a walk
To the beach via Whitey's Wood
And a sandlot sundial
What is a sandlot sundial?
It is a not so fancy timekeeping piece
That we made with two sticks
To mark our time in the woods
Grandpa and I would walk to the Big Lake
(Lake Michigan) every week
In summer we would swim
in Winter just walk
Grandma never joined us
When I invited her she said didn't swim
I said she could just walk.
Grandpa said "your grandmother doesn't walk."
Then they laughed together
A big shared joke
That I never got but it was nice to hear them laugh
And she never minded us going
We would cut through the neighbors' yard
To the vacant lot before the big hill
Before the back dune before the dune stairs
Before our beach trek to Mona Lake channel
Grampa would draw a circle in the sand
put a stick in the middle
And another on the edge of the circle
Where the center stick's shadow fell
When we came back from the lake
We would check the sand sundial
To see how much the shadow had moved
The shadows matched the clock's big hand
And then we would know if we were late
And if Grandma would be mad
She was never mad just petting fat poodle Pierre
Who had gotten sick of walking and gone home
But she would always complain
How we'd been gone forever
And how even the dog had given up
(just to keep us on our toes i think)
I would explain about the sundial
And how we really weren't late
And she would humph in her Grama way
And tell me to go wash my feet
Then she would make us sandwiches
Because it was Sunday
And they were Dutch reformed
And did not work on Sundays
And then we would sit on the porch
Or by the basement fire in winter
And I would chatter myself to sleep
Dreaming of sand and sundials and such
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