I have an uneven education. I love the works of some minor writers, and don’t have a word to say about some great ones.
While I wish I had a better understanding of some of the greats, I continue to read the lesser-known works because I love them. I am happy I found them, despite their lack of fame.
The Rev. Gilbert White, who was born on this date in 1720, wrote such a book, The Natural History and Antiquities of Selborne. He was born and buried in the same village in southern England.
He was a clergyman by trade but a naturalist at heart. His idea was that if people would pay attention to the things around them and record their observations the world would have complete histories at the county level. We would all know what plants bloomed where and when. We’d know which animals and birds migrated through each county and which stayed year-round.
White’s book is a collection of essays disguised as letters. No. 3 describes the fossil shells you see in various soils around Selborne. No. 5 includes a description of the sunken lanes that run out of town, the result of “the traffic of the ages and the fretting of water.” He saw different things in the different layers of soil — kind of like archeological digs.
Selborne, which had a population of 676 in White’s day, was a great place for ducks.
In the drought of 1740-41, the ponds almost dried up. One farmer found hordes of Roman coins. He sold some, but the smaller coins just passed into circulation as shillings.
Something similar happens in small communities today: ancient things and ways are absorbed into the fabric of life. These local histories are a way of catching some of those small things that tend to go unnoticed, unremarked. I love essays that catch those kinds of things.
White wrote a kind of book that I wish almost everyone would write. If you love a place, write about it.
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