A few days ago I really, truly woke up on the wrong side of bed. From the instant I opened my eyes early in the morning, I was angry, annoyed, and just plain OVER everything. No idea why. Tried to talk to a friend back home who always has the ability to cheer me up, and it turned out he was having a bad day as well, so all we ended up doing was commenting on our shared grief and fueling each other's vices. Not good at all, but it felt so gratifying in that moment. The next morning I was definitely moving out of the funk, but still feeling a bit overwhelmed and strange. It wasn't until late in the afternoon, on my way back from a trip into town that I emerged from my black cloud.
It was in the botanic gardens, in the cold fall wind, lit by the setting sun, that I looked down and saw chestnuts. Or rather, their shells. So, so many of them. And then a bright, shiny, perfectly whole chestnut caught my eye. And I was instantly transported to the gardens at Versailles, where my sister and I ran around filling the huge pockets of our winter coats with chestnuts on a cold fall day many, many years ago. That day is one of my happiest memories, wandering through the huge trees, rooting around in the mulch and fallen leaves for our prizes, egged on by our dad and feeling the thrill of doing something officially forbidden, but approved by our parents. I even remember bringing a bunch of those chestnuts back to San Diego and throwing them in our fireplace, waiting to hear them pop. And while my mind was lost in remembering all these things, my eyes shifted from gazing over everything on the ground, and instead started seeking out and quickly recognizing the sheen of a shelled chestnut among all the other things on the ground.
And this shift in literal focus brought about a shift in my attitude. It brought back the thrill of travel, that started when I was young in places like France, and that continues today in wonderful Australia. I feel so at home here that I'm starting to take it for granted. But in that moment of quietly, slowly, deliberately zigzagging through the gardens I was so content to just be there. To be here, in a country I'd never visited before, in a town I love, surrounded by wonderful family and friends I've made. It was a reminder that while I am at home, it's a new home, waiting to be explored and enjoyed more every day. And as I collected more and more nuts, and the pockets of my sweatshirt started to look more and more deformed, I grew happier and happier.
Then something strange happened. I looked up from my hunt, and noticed a family approaching, eyeing me strangely, probably wondering what extreme mental deficit was causing me to circle around staring at the ground. And as they came closer, I realized they were speaking in French! What are the chances? When our paths finally met, I smiled, said hello, and told them in French that I was looking for chestnuts. You should have seen their astonishment. "Merveilleux!" they told me, "Une bonne idée". And with that little encouragement and camaraderie, all was well with the world.
I enjoyed the rest of my walk, greeting the man walking his dog through the gardens who I always see at this time of day, feeling the chill of the wind, and putting all the chestnuts I'd collected in a bowl on my desk when I reached home, as a reminder of a happy day. I'll enjoy rolling them around in my hands for a while before tossing them out for the birds (sadly this is a inedible variety). Might even put them back in my pockets for the full memory recall of being a thrilled kid with a treasure. But I think my real treasure here is the fact that I've made a life for myself clear across the world from where I started.
