We don't see one another very often any more. but when we do it's a brief occasion for reminiscing. Regardless of the time that has passed it isn't the least bit difficult to pick up from where we left off, last time around, and it hardly seems that so much time has elapsed between our last meetings. This time he was on his way, with my sister-in-law, to Point Pelee. He is an avid birdwatcher, a passion that has taken him to the far corners of the Globe.
When, as very young adults, my husband and I married, my brother was five years old. When we bought our first, modest little house in the far-off suburbs and he would stay with us for brief periods of time, we knew where he could be found; in the ditches across from the house, looking for frogs and other aquatic creatures.
When our children were very young and we were offered a relative's cottage for a week's holiday, my brother accompanied us, and insisted we boat into a swampy area where he could look for turtles, immersing himself in the waters of the lake. When he emerged he was bristling with bloodsuckers.
When he was in high school he converted my mother's basement to a wildlife sanctuary of reptiles and fish. At one time he kept a raccoon as a pet. Now his attention is entirely focused on birds; although not an ornithologist by profession, rather a botanist.
As someone with a scientific mind he is endowed with another feature; forgetfulness. Which applies only to the pedestrian, everyday things of daily life. When they departed for Toronto we discovered left behind his small backpack with computer, diary and other items that he would sorely miss.
He will most assuredly be returning to us on his way back to Nova Scotia.
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