Confessions of a Naturalist

Last week I found a tiny diamond earring on the floor of a locker room.

When I asked the woman next to me if it might belong to her she said

“No, but how on earth did you ever spot that?”

I laughed, then smiled and confided in her.

“I walk beaches a lot and find myself looking downward.

I seem to be drawn to any tiny shimmer or twinkle of sea glass.

Honestly, it’s becoming a habit!  I treasure that one color that I call ‘Contemplation’

But I don’t want to miss that pod of dolphins swimming by one day”.

I laughed again.

“I am practicing by looking up and away”.

I brought the earring to the front desk Lost & Found.

I suppose it’s an occupational hazard for a naturalist collecting observations to have an attraction turn into distraction.

I remember those long days squinting through binoculars atop Polovina  Cliffs in the Pribilof Islands. Finding the detailed color of a Northern fur seal’s whiskers could categorize her age. There I learned very quickly to routinely look up…because seals spying on me didn’t want to miss a single thing either!

So I keep practicing.

The stars are twinkling beautifully tonight.