The day that I visited my spot this week was extremely chilly. I went early, at nine o’clock in the morning, and my nose was running and my eyes were tearing from the strength of the wind as I walked. Fall has definitely arrived. There were bare trees and colorful leaves everywhere. The day was absolutely beautiful.
Something that I wanted to work on this week was to observe the not-so-obvious aspects of my spot, specifically living organisms that surrounded me. I always make general observations about the same things, but I tried to notice the aspects that weren’t right in front of me. In the December 6th chapter of, The Forest Unseen, David Haskell discusses how we do not notice or even think about the small creatures of nature, “Unfortunately for the richness of our experience, we live in a strange and extreme corner of the world’s available habitat. The animals that we encounter are so few that also inhabit this unusual niche.” Then he goes on to explain why this is the case, “The first cause of our estrangement is our size. We are tens of thousands of times larger than most living creatures, therefore our senses are too dull to detect the citizens of Lilliput that crawl around and over us.” The idea of bacteria and other living creatures constantly on and around humans has always freaked me out, but I find it interesting as well. There is so much that exists in this world that we aren’t even aware of and it’s so fascinating.
Keeping this in mind, I got down as low as possible around the rock I normally observe on and, trying to not fall into the water, I looked for as many small creatures as I possibly could. In between the rock I sit on and the one directly next to it I spotted spider webs. I looked at the detailed web and saw a little spider up in the corner. I do not know much about spiders, they actually scare me, but it looked so comfy and almost cute curled up in a ball.
Right at that moment, a wasp flew onto my sweatshirt. My automatic reaction was to flick it off so that I wouldn’t get stung, and it stumbled onto the large rock that I was sitting on. Ever since I came back to school this semester, I feel like there are millions of wasps on campus. Whenever I am outside, there is always at least one swarming around me. The wasp now sat on the rock and didn’t move. I watched it while the stinger moved up and down, as if it were breathing. It stayed there for the longest time and this was strange because wasps are always on the move. I wondered if it was injured or maybe it was just tired. I directed my attention back to the spider web. He was still just hanging out in the corner of the web. So I looked at what else was around me.
There were so many leaves all crowded on top of each other due to the current of the water flowing down the river to spill over the waterfall. They were stopped by the rock next to mine in the way of their path. There was some mud and dirt underneath these leaves so I tried to peel them away to see if I could find anything. This was difficult at first because I’m not a huge fan of mud and was afraid of what I might find underneath the leaves. The leaves were damp and the ones that had recently fallen were crunchy, composed of all different beautiful colors. My hands grew colder as I peeled each one back. As I got closer to the mud, I found a worm! The worm wiggled and stretched in the damp leaves. It was so interesting to watch it move because they’re so strong.
While I studied the worm, it began to frustrate me not only that we don’t notice or acknowledge small organisms in our world, but also that most bacteria and other tiny creatures are unable to be seen by our eyes. How are we supposed to be united as one when we don’t even know that most organisms exist? Haskell observes much smaller organisms than every day insects, but this was all that I could see with my naked eye. He closes this chapter by stating, “In the end, it’s not just the diversity of the bestiary that our size and dryness hides from us but the true nature of life’s physiology. We are bulky ornaments on life’s skin, riding the surface, only dimly aware of the microscopic multitudes that make up the rest of the body. Peering below the mandala’s surface is like resting lightly on the body’s skin, feeling the pulse move.” I begin to question if we are disconnected because we don’t care or because there is no possible way we would be able to see or know these organisms unless we studied them. When I was little and playing out in my backyard, I paid attention to these organisms, and now I don’t even realize them. Have I grown not to care? Although I found common creatures, my observations were a start to hopefully one day seeing something different and finding a way to acknowledge these species. Next week I plan to do the same thing and see what I find. When getting ready to leave, I looked down and realized that the wasp was finally gone. He must have just been tired.