Childhood Memories That Evolved Into "The Journey"

After the visiting calmed down, my first stop was her bedroom. I stood quietly by the victrola, staring at the small white dog on the RCA label. I was missed within a few minutes and shooed out, but I didn’t mind. My exploring had just begun.
I went with Mammaw to gather eggs. She always cautioned me not to put my hand in a nest without first checking for chicken snakes. She unchained the crib door and I threw down some dried ears of corn. We shelled this off the cob and fed the chickens. I raced over and sat on the old iron rake that rested beneath a huge pine. I pretended I was driving horses and raking hay. She smiled, and went about her work.
After supper, everyone moved to the front porch for more visiting. I sat beside Mammaw in the porch swing. Shadows danced across the porch as clouds covered the moon, then scurried on by. The swing slowly creaked back and forth, and my eyelids began to get heavy.
I slept on the screened back porch and later awoke to the calling of hoot owls. Tall pines surrounded open fields, and I wondered which trees the owls were in. The wind blew softly, and limbs on a cherry tree scrubbed against the screen. I reminded myself that morning would soon come and there would be cherry jam on Mammaw’s hot biscuits.