Outside, exploring nature. That means I’m turning over rocks and finding bugs and slime-coated things found only under rocks. I’d often find ants carrying tiny white eggs. I wasn’t the type to destroy such things and I always put the rock back, gently, where it was. Even better were pools of water. There was one at the school I went to from kindergarten through third grade. It was adjacent to a small wetlands and shallow, and only about five yards long and two yards wide, but when you really looked you’d find minnows, tadpoles, and frogs.
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| To organisms, trees are villages, cities, or nations. |
In summer, tidal pools in rock formations at New England beaches teemed with life. Little fish, periwinkles, hermit crabs, starfish, mussels, crabs, all hiding, draped in seaweed.
My natural world took on greater dimensions with gifts of a microscope and a pair of binoculars. I still have the binoculars and the Petersens Field Guide to Birds, and I wish I still had the microscope. I also got a telescope. It was fairly powerful but not great for star gazing because the eyepiece was straight and the trees in anyplace I’ve lived made it only possible to see things far above the horizon. I had to sit low and crane my neck to look at anything. It gave me some good sights nonetheless, especially of the moon. I was nearsighted and didn’t get glasses until fifth grade, so seeing the moon through a telescope was the first time I could really appreciate its shape as a three-dimensional sphere, a big thing that had mountains that cast shadows. I also saw a binary star.
My telescope wasn’t powerful enough to make out Saturn’s rings. Those I saw in college in the quad of Old Kenyon, when a student two years ahead of me had set his telescope up and was inviting people to look through it. My own had no tracking capabilities and it surprised me how fast the moon would pass out of its field of vision. With his, you could stare at Saturn for long minutes, and be awed by it.
Hi Bill,
ReplyDeleteI saw your comment in the NYT and linked to your blog. You're a good writer. A smart and witty writer. I see why you are a journalist. It's in your blood. I know telling someone what to do is beyond pointless but I want you to know that finding a good therapist saved my emotional life. I realize you have health issues but this isn't what I'm talking about. I wasn't doing much of anything that made me happy either and I went from job to job and never had a long term relationship. Then I interviewed 6 therapists and found one I really liked. She has helped me so much. Talking to the right person is a godsend. It was totally unexpected but I worked at it talking to her. I told her I hated her over and over again. But now I love her and she loves me too. We're only human and when you get to know someone that intimately, love grows and usually plays a part in the therapy process. AND ANOTHER THING: No matter how ashamed I was of anything I had done, she made me realize it didn't matter. It really is all in our heads. Our damn heads. This is just food for thought and I hope you take this idea and just think about it for awhile. You're very smart and you should talk to someone. And I don't care if you've already tried therapy. TRY AGAIN. Until you find the right person. That's the key. You say you only have a short time to live, but I think it's still worth it to talk to someone because you never know how long you really have. And even if you had only one more day, communicating is worth it. Isn't that what you're doing with this blog? And don't give me that shit about "paying for it isn't the same thing." I've learned that paying for a therapist is worth triple of almost any friend I've ever had. I'm around your age and still haven't had a long term romantic relationship but I don't give a shit about that either because my life is so much better now. It'll happen eventually. xoxo
What a beautiful memory! I'm always delighted when a moment of joy from days gone by comes back for re-enjoyment. I grew up by a forest, and I really relate the the sense of exploration wilderness provokes.
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