Monday, June 01, 2009

More thoughts on fieldwork (and insects of a different sort).

When I do fieldwork, I usually wear some kind of large, broad-brimmed hat. The one I have right now is made of a heavy cotton (not quite canvas) and is that bright yellow of rain-slickers or sou'wester hats. I wear it for two reasons: first, I like it; and second, it makes me easily recognizable in a group, so if I'm leading a field trip somewhere or am out in the field with my class, people can spot where I am almost immediately.

Today when I was out (by myself) wearing it, wood bees kept coming up and buzzing around me. I suppose they were investigating; maybe the bright yellow got their attention (or maybe it was the Burt's Bees lemongrass/eucalyptus bug repellent: I have to use that now; DEET makes me come out in hives).

And immediately I thought of a line from a children's book. It's funny - I often think of the "Kanga being in a Counting Mood" when I am going out to count something - lichens or milkweed plants or whatever. I think it's amusing that when I am doing arguably the most "grown-up" part of my work (my research) that I'm recalling children's books. But I think that's because they're the only books I re-read enough times to have lines from them really stick in my memory. (That said, I've often used the "use your intelligence guided by experience" line from Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe novels. I've even used it as an instruction on essay exams; so far no one has come up to me and said, "Did you mean to quote Nero Wolfe?" or written "Nero Wolfe WIN!" next to the direction, but I live in hope that someday someone will get it)

But anyway, out in the sun, with the wood bees doing fly-bys, I thought of this:

"It was a mild and motionless summer day, exactly right for washing carpets. Slow and sleepy swells came rolling in to help her with the rinsing, and around her red cap a few bumble-bees were humming; they took her for a flower!"


(From "The Fillyjonk who believed in Disasters." However, I hasten to add, that's where the resemblance to the story ends; I did not have the feeling of impending doom that the next lines described; in fact, doing fieldwork I'm always rather happy. Partly because I'm doing something useful and advancing to my work, but also because I am out where I can't be pulled off-task and given some other duty that I'd rather not be doing (which has on occasion happened when I am working in my office)).

But I did have a few wood bees humming around my yellow hat. It was a fairly mild (bordering on hot) day, but there were occasional gusts of breeze that made it a bit nicer.

Incidentally, there's an interesting "review"/explanation of the story by this blogger. The moomin books are, in many respects, atypical children's books and I'm sure some of the more absurdly protectionist parents might be made uncomfortable by them because they do allow for fearfulness, and bossiness and other unpleasant or simply strange personality traits to be present. And the books are a bit "darker" in some respects than much American children's literature (well, of the last half-century, anyway) tend to be. But I loved the books as a kid; somehow the "darkness" or "scariness" that some adults alluded to either escaped me or it was something I took in stride: well, of COURSE people are scared by stuff sometimes. Well, of COURSE bad storms happen that break stuff.

I think in some regards I was more intrepid as a child than I am as an adult. I was struck, re-reading "The Hobbit" a few years ago, how uncomfortable I found certain passages (especially the ones where they are deep underground) and how I could more readily imagine the suffering during the battle at the end - as a child, I seemed less affected by that. Perhaps children ARE more resilient than many people give them credit for, and reading books deemed "scary" by adults is not so very scarring after all.

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