Unearthing the Earth

I had a very peculiar college assignment where I was asked to creatively write about collecting different dirt samples and describe them as intricately and thoroughly as possible. A few of my friends read it, and they were amused, so I figured you might be interested as well. ♥

Unearthing the Earth

The breeze nipped at my face as I stepped out into the brisk autumn afternoon. I had two small bowls in one hand to be used for any buried black gold I might come across. What riches would I find just by taking the time to look?

I live by a trail. I enjoy hiking there often, and it encompasses a variety of different areas and spots that one can come across a diverse range of smells, colors, and textures under their feet. It was these such spots that I was seeking out. I didn’t know where I was going, but by staying observant, I knew it wouldn’t be long before something caught my eye.

The native prairie the city had planted has almost entirely died back by now. Only the skeletons of previously enchanting blooms remain. I moved my gaze from the fascinating seed heads down to the wilted leaves that had made a carpet under the vegetative graveyard. Stooping down, I pressed my bare hand to the soil and moved it side to side. Picking up a pinch, it separated into a thousand tiny fragments, creating a landslide down my palm. This would do nicely. I cupped my hands and scooped the material into the bowl for later inspection.

Continuing on, I wondered where my next place of interest would be. It didn’t take me long before I was wistfully looking at the river before me, wishing I could rescue a unique sample from its depths. A glint flashed across my eyes as I noticed the water level had fallen since the last time I had meandered past. There was now a sizable and solid bank full of interesting and peculiar covering, perfect for experimentation. I mused over the topography of the path down and concluded it was safe. Step by step, I found myself crouched at the base of the river. With hesitant hands, I plunged my fingers in and flinched at the cold, wet sensations awakening my eyes. A faint smile crossed my lips as I realized it was an enjoyable experience. A brown murk with black streaks was found in a separate bowl from the prairie treasure.

With that, my sample collection was complete, and I made the trek back home. My ungloved hand stung as the wind met the damp skin. It wouldn’t be long before I could relieve the pain with a hot water faucet.

In the house and up the stairs. I placed the two bowls beside a third and rushed to rid my hand of the filth that had caused the frigid air to seep deeper than normal. I fully knew it wasn’t the last time I would wash my hands of an unnatural amount of sediment, or perhaps it was natural?

A mason jar was prepared with a splash of water. The perfect inciting incident to add to dry crumbles. First, I lifted each bowl to my nose. There was a clear distinction that I took care to notice. The desolate potting soil I had found in a container in the back of my room had nearly no olfactory presence. The prairie treasure was distinctively earthy, but not more than what would be expected. The river muck instantly caused my eyebrows to furrow and my left eye to squint. It was a fishy, marshy smell.

Next, I took care to really feel how the dry ground felt in my hands. How did it fare when rubbed? Patted? Squeezed? The river muck, unfortunately, was too moist for this experience, but the others were in their prime dehydrated state. The potting soil came first. Could it even be called dirt? It felt light. Manufactured. Sterile. A good word could be Styrofoam. The prairie treasure had a few bugs here and there, was light yet dense, and contained a trove of twigs.

The mason jar was summoned to my grasp, and I took care to coat my wealth in a tantalizing amount of liquid. My clean hands jumped at the chance to swish, move, and mix this concoction together. What would be discovered? The potting soil sucked up water like a straw, and it squeezed out in a similar fashion. The prairie treasure was gritty, yet immersed with minuscule particles. The river muck teased another smile out of me. This would be great fun. I took a modest glob and worked it over in my hands. I knew the circular motion instinctively. Before I could blink, a perfectly round sphere had taken shape. An attempt at ribboning proved it was some percentage of clay.

Each sample had a unique experience attached to it. Three different locations, smells, textures, and materials. The earth we tread every day is full of color, variety, and new discovery. The microscopic ecosystem can vary dramatically, and if I had a microscope, I believe I would find that to be factual of my specimens. One of the simplest things known to our abundant world happens to be rich with complexity and purpose.

To be a good steward of the crumbling sediment is to be a good steward of everything that finds itself stepping above it.

-Briar Albaugh