Sight Unseen
"Look at that cat!" said Stephen as we walked along.
"What cat?" I replied.
"The black one. "
"Where?"
"On the roof."
Once I looked a bit, I could see it perfectly well. But I would never have noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out.
I often wonder whether we all see the same things. Especially colours. I wonder whether that's why some people decide to paint their walls a strange shade of mauve, for example. Perhaps they see them differently.
Once, years ago, playing Trivial Pursuit (a fine game) with a friend, I realised that she simply could not tell the difference between orange, brown, pink and red. Her brother was colour blind and knew it - - but she didn't seem to have ever realised that she was too.
I read somewhere that there's a "window" of time when we're little when we learn to see things.
I think I missed that window. Until I got my glasses, when I was four, I really couldn't see anything much in the distance at all - but, of course, I didn't know, until suddenly I put my glasses on and the ground came up to hit me, and the green blurry bits on trees turned out to be separate leaves.
Now I can see all that, with my glasses on of course - - but I think the "noticing" part of my brain has never caught up.
"So what do you see then?" asked Stephen.
I suppose the answer is - - exactly what I expect to see!
And what is it that I don't see? - - Well, of course, I've no idea.
"What cat?" I replied.
"The black one. "
"Where?"
"On the roof."
Once I looked a bit, I could see it perfectly well. But I would never have noticed it if he hadn't pointed it out.
I often wonder whether we all see the same things. Especially colours. I wonder whether that's why some people decide to paint their walls a strange shade of mauve, for example. Perhaps they see them differently.
Once, years ago, playing Trivial Pursuit (a fine game) with a friend, I realised that she simply could not tell the difference between orange, brown, pink and red. Her brother was colour blind and knew it - - but she didn't seem to have ever realised that she was too.
I read somewhere that there's a "window" of time when we're little when we learn to see things.
I think I missed that window. Until I got my glasses, when I was four, I really couldn't see anything much in the distance at all - but, of course, I didn't know, until suddenly I put my glasses on and the ground came up to hit me, and the green blurry bits on trees turned out to be separate leaves.
Now I can see all that, with my glasses on of course - - but I think the "noticing" part of my brain has never caught up.
"So what do you see then?" asked Stephen.
I suppose the answer is - - exactly what I expect to see!
And what is it that I don't see? - - Well, of course, I've no idea.
posted by Daphne at 11:41 am
3 Comments:
I had the same exact experience with getting glasses when I was seven. Suddenly there were leaves on trees, wires strung between telephone poles, actual birds sitting on the wires....
But there are none so blind as those who WILL NOT see....
Sometimes that's nota bad thing at all. Perpetual rose colored glasses!
What's scary is when things you were used to seeing don't seem to be there any more.
At the moment if I look over my left shoulder I can't see properly - apparently I have developed a shaky left eye (whatever that is).
I suppoose not being able to see a black cat could be a disadvantage if you want to have some good luck. But then this one wasn't crossing your path so you're probably okay.
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