[oh-ol–uh-jee]

noun

1. the branch of ornithology that studies birds’ eggs.

I do not know an oologist. Dictionary.com picks the word of the day, not me. But I do now know a geologist. He’s a friend of my cousin’s and we went on a hike to Bridal Veil Falls together yesterday. Some people truly enhance a hike and he was one of those people. He noticed and pointed out things I would’ve never seen. We studied sediment and flood lines and rocks that had been recently turned over by bears. My cousin loves flowers and has been studying them all winter in preparation for spring. So we stopped and gawked and took photos. It was lovely and I felt educated by the end of our six miles. My hike would have been “less than” without them.

But I also found this poem by Mary Oliver a couple days ago, and this rings true with me as well. I do enjoy going to the woods alone when my smart cousin and the cool geologist aren’t around.

How I Go To the Woods

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore 
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds 
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of 
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, 
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.
― Mary Oliver, Swan