What we notice, what we ignore

 When John Graves, the Texas writer, was young, he went to live in Manhattan, at least partly to get away from people. He was writing.

And while many, many people could be seen from his sixth-floor window, he didn’t have to notice any of them. He didn’t have to pay attention to people or noise or commotions.

He wondered whether people in rural places, like his part of Texas, were more likely to pay attention to small things than people who lived in big cities. He thought that unlikely, but he was interested in what and how different people notice different things.

In his essay “Noticing,” Graves talked about how some rural people would break up dirt daubers’ nests to see what the wasps were preying on.

My grandfather was one of those people. He’d remove a mud nest from a corner of the tin barn and grind it to powder in his hands. He said you’d be surprised how many dead or paralyzed black widow spiders you could find in those old nests.

• John Graves essay “Noticing” is in From a Limestone Ledge; Austin, Texas: Texas Monthly Press, 1980, pp. 153-63.