Homo sapiens have left themselves few places and scant ways to witness other species in their own world, an estrangement that leaves us hungry and lonely. In this famished state, it is no wonder that when we do finally encounter wild animals, we are quite surprised by the sheer truth of them. ~Ellen Meloy "Eating Stone"

Homeschool Science Fair is happening this weekend. Our son's experiment has gone the way of many hallowed science experiments. It was shut down by Mom. Actually it was shut down by Mom and Dad going nose to nose in the kitchen. "I merely wanted to inquire if botulous spores shouldn't be cultivated and released in the kitchen." "Well, I merely wanted to inquire if scaring a little boy who wants to grow some mold is necessary?" "I don't want to scare anyone, I am only saying....." And round we went.

Our daughter's experiment is on track. She is keeping a wild life journal to note the other creatures that share our "habitat".

I have always told the children that "I love you each the same. And I love you each different because you are different people." They certainly have different talents and strengths. My girl has a real gift of vision. She is the one who can spot the bear cubs, hidden as well as nature will hide them, when no one else at the exhibit can see them. She is the one who noticed that the leaf on the tree was actually a sleeping luna moth. She is the one walking quietly and thoughtfully with her enormous blue eyes, apparently, wide wide open. So this project has been perfect for her.

This gift of observation may be a talent inherited from her father. He has a mysterious and intuitive connection to wild creatures and it is far easier to see them, or signs of them, when you can feel their presence first. Never mind that this gift nearly got me killed one bright icy day on the side of Battleship Rock in the Jemez Mountains of NM. "I feel mountain lions close" followed by "OH WOW, come see this but hurry" (huge and clearly fresh mountain lion tracks in the snow) followed by "oh wow, we had better get out of here now." There I am, slender girl of my youth, in my "clobby clobby boots" retreating down a slick and shear cliff face. I can't exactly feel the breath of the tiger upon us, but I can sense the urgency of my boyfriend, a local man not given to panic.

One of the things I like about unschooling is that it leads the kids, naturally, to play to their strengths. Her gift of vision does not seem to extend to print for my daughter. Just as my son is not the person you might choose to front an assertiveness training class. Either trait may change and shift later in their lives. Certainly other talents will emerge. Yet we feel no real need to rush toward them. They will unfold in the future.

For this moment, we are here to work with what we have before us. A journey of a thousand miles begins with the step in front of you. You can't get on the path 10 miles down the road and you should not start with a bigger pack than you can carry. For my daughter, the path seems to begin with a serene meander through woody meadows, noticing and simply noting. There are wild spaces holding unknown truths inside each of us. We have all of our time to discover them.

Hey maybe my gift is a mysteriously deep connection to mold spores? I guess my talents are calling me to action. I have to go clean the bathrooms.