Getting familiar

 Verlyn Klinkenborg says he carries simple botanical keys around in his head for the same reason we learn the stars — not to be an expert, but “to feel at home on the Earth.”

We speak of knowing the stars. We’re familiar with them, almost friendly. 

A year after moving from Texas, I’m becoming familiar with the common plants of the Georgia Piedmont. Only by learning the natives can you learn to spot the strangers, the intruders, the species (like me) that are invasive.

When I walk the dog, I make it a point to wave at every neighbor and passing car. At first, my behavior struck people as odd. One fellow told me people assumed I was a new arrival to the metro area, fresh from the country. A year later, it’s surprising how many people stop to talk.

Of course, my way of learning about a new place is out of style.

Instead, newcomers are greeted by companies that push security systems. They can provide you with security cameras that give you alerts on your phone every time motion is detected. You can subscribe to apps that will alert you to every crime reported within miles of your new house.

This technology is the way of the world. But, like Klinkenborg, I’m less interested in the ways of the world than in finding a way to feel at home on the Earth.

• Source: Verlyn Klinkenborg, The Rural Life; Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 2003, p. 19.