Feb. 10, 2004 - 17:11 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

I'm One Of 'Em

I guess it was in the early grades of elementary school when the folks thought that maybe going a little ways off from the picnic spot was alright. "Don't go too far," Mom said and I was off to the wild.

Feeling macho and able to handle most anything that might come up. I went on uphill looking at the big rocks, trees and clouds in the sky, noting the occasional reddish flowering Indian Paint Brush in odd spots.

I was supremely happy pushing the envelope knowing tht the outer limits of Mom's approval had been passed some time ago, our valiant explorer giggled and hiked on with confidence.

A heavy gust of wind blew something down in the forest which crashed down and startled me until my mind sorted things out. I happily proceeded upward scanning the way ahead, enjoying the non-city environment and breathing the heady scent of warm pine trees -- I was a kid in heaven.

I reached a spot where the trees closed up pretty well and glimpsed something big and alive moving a bit, suddenly the thumping sound of running feet quickly began -- seeming to me it was headed in my direction.

No time for Macho now, I whirled about and ran as fast as I could in a direction from which I came and ran downhill more rapidly than ever before.

Soon I no longer heard the beasty feet and slowed down a bit, but then thought that maybe I was being stalked. Still not sure I was going the right direction to our picnic spot and security and finally slowing down but still walking, looking back over my shoulder, I finally reached my goal the picnic spot and my folks.

A few ventures into what this child perceived as wilderness taught him to be quite aware and alert all the time while tramping by myself. Even back in the city things I learned up there benefited me in the city.

I often wonder how much instinct played a part in that incident. Were my actions due to the fight or flight instinct built into most live creatures, I think, even human types ?

At that time I perceived not an animal, but a glimpse of something living, but the sound of something big and running pushed whatever button was in my make up. My body reacted immediately and revved up my motor and speed to the max on the instant. Scared was I ? Not scared till I reached what I thought was safety. I think that instinct put me in a survival mode then. As a little kid I guess the thought of being back with the folks was safety enough for me.

I think one must learn, for instance, by touching a hot stove or stone the reflex action occurring in that case, part instinct the reflex action, after that the avoidance of contacting something hot with the body is learning.

I gradually learned some things about living, some slower than the average bear, but learn I did.

I must have learned enough to survive into my eighties. It takes all kinds and I'm One Of Them . . . . . . . .

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