On the weekend we both read a lengthy article focusing on the unusual ability of some people to recall faces and to identify them even after many years have passed. Sometimes even a partial glimpse of a face was enough for people with these extraordinary facial-recognition memories to identify other people. It is not a practised skill, but an inherent one, and could be inheritable in the genes. It's also quite rare. 

It may not seem so special to many people -- but those with the capacity to recognize faces after a long period of time has passed, and can do it even if they've just had a side view of a face, or have seen a photograph of a child, and can then recognize that child grown into adulthood -- but the skill has its practical side. Police in Europe, for example, have sought out tests for their recruits to determine who among them might be gifted in this way.

 

It's estimated that a vanishing low percentage of people fall into the category of expertise in facial recognition. I've always been impressed with Irving's sharp memory. He automatically notes small details and tucks them away in his memory. His recall for faces has always been superior to mine. I tend not to notice what he just turns a keen eye on. So I depend on him to remind me often of people who I don't recognize or don't remember. Including their names. It can be quite embarrassing.

Aside from his many and various skills and competencies, Irving is not one of those amazing face-recognition types, however. The camera of his eyes and their neural connection to his brain is busy, busier than mine, but this is not one of his skills. His are far more diffuse and include just about anything; no particular focus on faces. He simply has a fine memory.

 

We had an experience today that surprised us both. And after having read that article and discussed it between us, we encountered an odd coincidence. We'd gone out earlier than usual with the puppies for a ravine hike in the forest, hoping to take advantage of an off-again, on-again sun on a quite cold day. Unfortunately, for the length of time we were out the sun was mostly in. Fortunately, there was no wind.

All the  accumulated rain ponds on the forest floor above the ravine itself have now frozen solid. They've become miniature skating rinks. We can see where some enterprising souls perhaps recalling the allures of childhood have attempted to stamp through the ice, but it's too thick to give, though there were some ice-cube-sized shards at one of the ponds that refused to be entirely smashed through.

 

We're certainly not complaining about the hard-frozen forest trails. Jackie and Jillie come away from these hikes the past few days with the temperature below freezing, with nice clean paws. One swipe with a wet soapy sponge is all they need before we wipe them dry with a towel. A far cry from the impossible-to-wipe-away India-ink quality mud that just stuck stubbornly to their little paws. 

We enjoyed an extremely pleasant -- but still dark interior forest, even at 1:00 pm. And when the sun did peek out now and again it was high in the sky and slightly muted, but the brilliance that did escape served to cloak the forest trees in dark, stark silhouette. Just as we began climbing the last long hill back up to street level we came abreast of a middle-aged couple moving in a direction opposite to ours.

 

Admittedly at that juncture the sun happened to be out and our exposure to it somewhat dazzled our eyes. We could hardly make out the faces of the two people, but the man greeted us both by name. Shading our eyes and turned around to clear our vision from the sun we looked directly at two unfamiliar faces. Who then asked how old Jackie and Jillie now were, and made small talk, the kind that people engage in who are comfortably familiar with one another.

The conversation went on and on, touching on many different aspects of life. Irving is happy enough to respond and to expound on his experiences of various topics being mounted. How could we say to these people who are you? How is it you know our names? One hesitates to say anything that would leave the impression you're a stark idiot for not recalling people who are familiar but unfamiliar. Embarrassing to you, yes, but embarrassing to the others as well. But there was nothing familiar to either of us about these two.

 

We eventually parted, wishing one another a good day and an enjoyable hike through the frozen forest. And as they walked on down a trail we had just ascended, and we turned to climb up that last hill to home, we turned to one another and chorused "Who the HELL were they?!" and laughed. Irving thought a bit and then said he dimly recalled the man as someone we would see occasionally years ago. He hadn't a dog back then and doesn't now. But the woman with him, obviously his wife, had never accompanied him on those earlier hikes. At least he remembered something about the fellow. 

That's another thing about our daily hikes through the ravine with the puppies. You never know what you may see in the natural world. And  you never know who you may come across, including people with truly extraordinary face-recognition memories...