December, 2004:
the way we were
There's nothing out of the ordinary in undergoing changes. We all
do it. Actually, a truly exceptional achievement would be staying
the same. But it's hard to pinpoint just when we stopped being what
we were and became something else. (A favorite quote of the too
little known Elbert Hubbard [1856 - 1915] tells us that "Life
is just one damn thing after another".) Things seem to have
a way of flowing one into another and it's often hard to distinguish
just when one period in our lives stops and another starts.
And perhaps that may be one of the positive aspects of saving objects.
We may not know why we originally saved them, but when we rediscover
them - often years later and after many changes in our lives - we
become keenly aware of what was once apparently important to us,
but has lost that significance. This small knapsack for nature hikes,
for instance, was once an integral part of my teaching gear. I will
readily admit that I was never very good at identifying plants,
or even of animals for that matter, but I was quite adept at finding
things worth seeing - a bird in the bush, or a rare flower (the
name of which I could never remember). And I'd learned from one
of my nature teachers that a knapsack of this sort, filled with
various utensils for collecting all sorts of interesting materials,
was a must for any teacher who wnated to instill a love of nature
into his or her pupils.
Thus it was that every
outing found me prepared for investigating various species, collecting
specimens, and whatever. But even if I make a concerted effort,
I can't remember when I last took a hike with this knapsack on my
shoulder. It's been sitting in a box for years. Not exactly forgotten,
perhaps simply overlooked, passed over. A remainder from what feels
like a previous life.
And if we're dealing with nature and the natural, perhaps I should
also note that at about the same time that I was collecting specimens
on nature hikes I also came to the conclusion that my vegetarianism
demanded of me not to wear leather shoes. Doing that is considerably
easier said than done. Buying a non-leather pair of shoes (not to
mention sandals) was almost impossible. In the end, I had to have
them specially made.
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