#5 Crystal City, by Glenn Lewis

Crystal City, 14 1/2 x 29 in., watercolor, by Glenn Lewis

Crystal City

Layers of mystery are locked up in this magical place. By just sitting for a spell and eating Grandma’s cookies, these two sisters might begin to question, for instance, how far down knurled tree roots go and what they hide down there.  Or they may wonder why blue jays flutter around them so angrily. It is not for the want of a cookie, surely!

Maybe, the jays are guarding nature’s pretty mystery stones, like the one found by Mikie yesterday on his way to Grandma’s house. The stone that Mikie had spotted and picked up had a pointy end and looked clear, like glass. After polishing it with his shirttail, Mikie exclaimed that it was a diamond! Straight-away he carried it to Grandma Mae, who moved to the window for a better look at it. Holding the pretty stone up to the light, she cried, “Well, for heaven’s sake, Grandpa, lookie here—a diamond, imagine that!”

“Humph!” He huffed, snatching it from her hand, “This here’s nothin’ but a crystal!” He handed the stone back to Mikie, and then reached for a wee slice of cheese. He hid it between two soda crackers and took a bite.   Grandma silently fastened her gaze on that before noticing Mikie’s crestfallen expression. She pointed to the sparkly ring on her wrinkled finger, then held it close for Grandpa to see, and she said, loudly, “Hah! What Mikie found today is a whole lot bigger’n this here teensy diamond on my ring!”

“Size don’t matter none, Mae,” he answered.

“Oh?” she replied, feigning surprise as she snatched his plate away: “Size doesn’t matter; is that why my ring looks the way it does?!”

When Grandpa looked up at her, dumbstruck, she explained: “This here pretty stone you gave me so long ago seems to have shriveled a bit over the years, dear. So much hot water used for cleaning your dishes seems to have shrunk it, …and wrinkled my hands, too!” At the kitchen sink , she dropped his plate into soapsuds, then turned and said, “What Mikie found today is a real pretty mystery stone, that’s what! This ‘n here on my finger has survived thirty years o’ scrubin’ ‘n there you sit, Grandpa—a real gem of a man–but darned if your lackluster attitude doesn’t stupefy me, sometimes!”

Hoodwinked momentarily, Grandpa blinked awake to say, “Mae, honey, you wouldn’t trade me or that ring for all the jade in Japan, now, would you? But, for any one stone as nice as Mikie’s, you might!” He grinned when Mikie acknowledged his wink with a smile.

“That’s right, I might do that!” Grandma admitted finally, leaving Grandpa to break the spell with his laughter. All three grandchildren accepted a sugar cookie. Seeing their admiration for the little sparkles on the top, she added, “Such is the power of crystal, one facet of it, anyway!”

***

The solution to one mystery preserves another. In one of  Grandpa’s tales about the world beneath the surface, for example, he speaks of place called Crystal City. But is that a real place, and does a colony of Root People really thrive there, beneath Grandpa’s property? Do they keep those crystal generators going  to energize all that is precious to them?—even children so small, and grandparents, too?

Yes, he would answer. Grandma would agree, but here is the downside: With environmental crises popping up like mushrooms all around our planet, some of us have become a lot less inquisitive in spite of our huge ears! On the upside, nothing surpasses genuine effort to pay attention and really, truly listen. Through our observing nature and staying tuned-in the way Root People do, we might enable the universe to let go of its magnificent secrets.