We have one of our offspring living with us at the moment, and last night he was complaining that he had pohutakawa seeds on his skin, that felt unpleasantly itchy.
I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, so he put one on his finger tip and showed me. It was a tiny, almost transparent fibre. I was baffled. “Come on! These things have made my life a misery!” In the face of my incomprehension, he messaged his siblings for corroboration and apparently it was true. A very unpleasant part of their childhood had been putting up with the seeds from pohutakawa trees, especially at Waikanae, where they put on a fabulous show every summer. Whereas, I have no memory at all of ever being troubled by it myself, or hearing them complain about it either. It left me shaken. Am I living in a parallel reality to the one my children inhabit? How can I really not have known about something that affected them so much?
To be clear, if you’re in the dark as much as me:
I had a similar experience of unaccustomed ignorance a couple of weeks ago when the same offspring mentioned the widespread extinctions of amphibians on the planet. What? I knew the insects were in trouble, but the amphibians too? He was astounded that I could not have known that, shaking his head and saying the scientists have their work cut out getting the message out to the public (The public! That’s me now!) about the dire state of the planet. I was mortified. And then, of course, there was the aurora last weekend, enjoyed by millions around the world, including people on my own doorstep. And it completely passed me by, in spite of being given the heads up by my own siblings that very day. Maybe I’m not as in tune with the natural world as I thought I was? Oh David Attenborough, on your 98th birthday (also last weekend): how I have let you down!