Tales From the Glades of Ballymore by Bob Brooks, Karen Ross Ohlinger Page B

in the daytime.  The stars themselves aren’t that bright compared to the sun that is much closer to the Earth than the stars.  Light is very important.  That’s what Bartholomew has told me,” said Melrose.
     
    Merwin was beginning to understand.  He looked at the sky again.  “A few minutes ago, that bright star above us was next to the first branch of the oak tree.  Now, it’s next to the second branch.  It must be moving,” he said.
     
    Melrose laughed.  “Yes, it looks like the star is moving, but it’s us who are moving.”
     
    “I’m not moving,” Merwin protested.
     
    “We are on the surface of the Earth.  The Earth is like a giant ball that is turning around to our left when we face south.  When we look at the stars at night, they seem to be moving to the right,” said Melrose.
     
    “That doesn’t make sense.  Are you sure?  I do see the stars moving to the right, but I don’t see me moving,” again Merwin protested.
     
    “This is what Bartholomew has learned by studying his books.  When we think we see the stars moving, it is an illusion.  The same is true of the sun and moon.  Bartholomew calls it PERSPECTIVE.  He gave me an example of perspective.  When you or I look at a blade of grass, it looks fairly small.  When an ant looks at the same blade of grass, it looks large to the ant.  I hope that Bartholomew teaches me more about perspective one day.”
     
    Melrose paused and then said, “You cannot always believe what you see.”
     
    They didn’t talk for a while, and Merwin continued to study the sky.
     
    “Where did the stars come from, Melrose?” asked Merwin.
     
      “The Creator of the universe made them.  The Creator made everything.  Now, go to sleep.  It’s getting late,” answered Melrose.
     
    Both moles eventually fell asleep.
     
    Melrose was awakened in the middle of the night by rustling sounds.  About fifty feet away, his bleary eyes saw two long dark shapes slinking through the bushes and headed towards the garden.  He rubbed his eyes and jostled the others.
     
    “Wake up.  Something’s going on,” he said.
     
    They awoke, rubbed their eyes also and peered in the direction of the bushes.  The dark shapes were moving away and continuing towards the garden.
     
    “Let’s follow them.  Be quiet,” Melrose whispered.
     
    The creatures did go to the garden.  Melrose, Merwin, and Finn crept along at a distance.  Distinct munching and slurping sounds were then heard.  A full-moon was up but was covered by a cloud, so there wasn’t much light.  Then, the cloud cleared the moon, and the crime scene was illuminated.  Caught in the sudden moonlight were Wilde and Wilder Weasel.  They were enjoying strawberries from Petunia’s garden.  Strawberry juice was dripping from their mouths.
     
    The weasels lived just to the south of Petunia’s cottage.  They spent most nights roaming around and checking on things as part of their guard duties.  Tonight, it seems, they were checking on strawberries.
     
    Melrose jumped up and said, “Caught you.  Drop those strawberries.”
     
    Everyone was startled including Melrose.  The weasels dropped the strawberries and stood there looking sheepish.  However, they quickly regained their composure when they realized who had caught them.
     
    “We are on our rounds and stopped for a couple of strawberries.  I don’t see any harm in that,” Wilde said.
     
    “Do you have Mrs. Porcupine’s permission to eat her berries?” asked Melrose.
     
    “Not exactly,” answered Wilder.  
     
    “Well, we must be going.  We have a schedule to maintain,” said Wilde.  Off they scampered.
     
    Finn and the moles chuckled to each other as they walked back to their blankets.  They wondered who was protecting whom and from what.  The rest of the night passed uneventfully.

 
     
    The next morning dawned clear and cool.  It was another great day for tunneling and ant following, except that there