She started paying attention after that. On mornings, she touched the exposed wall first, then the wall behind the sunflower bundles. The difference was quite noticeable. The protected wall seemed to lose heat more slowly. She also noticed that the stove needed slightly less feeding during calm nights. “Are the flowers doing it?” her daughter asked. “The stalks, maybe,” she replied. “But we should not decide too quickly.”
Her thinking was practical. The dried stalks were light because their centers were full of tiny spaces. Those spaces held air. Still air does not carry heat away as quickly as moving air, which is one reason insulation works. She did not know the modern science behind it. She only understood what she could feel with her hand. A thick layer of dry stalks also kept strong wind from striking the cabin logs directly.
By late autumn, curiosity had replaced some of the laughter. A neighbor who had mocked the project returned after a cold night. “Any warmer?” he asked. “A little,” she said. “Enough to matter?” She looked toward the woodpile. “Ask me in February.” He smiled, but he did not laugh this time. Winter had not really begun just yet.