A Scratching Post

     I was today walking through the woods on a day off, treating my senses to the array of natural happenings.  Most often of these walks I become introspective and after a while I found myself nibbling on my fingernails.  This is a distasteful habit, I agree, so I balled up my hands with the resolve to clip the chitinous edges when I returned home.  It wasn’t long before my thoughts strayed and with them my fingers to teeth.  Just then, as I was about to step over a fallen log, a flicker of inspiration alighted.  Bending over, I began to vigorously run my fingernails over the exposed log.  The log was a trunk of hardwood, quite possibly an oak, which initial decay had stripped of its bark.  I was tactile-ly gratified by the naked tree.

     All true discoveries are imitations of nature.  Is rubbing one’s fingernails over wood really so strange?  Behold the arch of a cat as it sinks its claws into a suitable material before yanking feverishly upon it.  Bears do the same; great gouges in bark are memorial to this happy practice.  Even dogs will shred the right ground with a silly grin, getting their rocks off, prancing in place, getting their footing like a baseballer preparing their batting stance, cutting a rug, and really and truly going for it. 

     Let me tell you, the feeling is delightful.  Having worked off some rough edges thanks to the oak, I continued my trek.  Coming quickly upon a lightening-stricken pine, I couldn’t resist – this one, too, unsheathed.  An upright tree was equally worthwhile.  Along the pine’s fibrous flesh were traced sapsucker bores.  These meandering lines provided a finishing relief, allowing my finger to catch gently with each scratch.  Tantalizing.  While scratching, I imagined our ancestors doing the same.  Men and women of ancient forests circled in conversation, running their fingers across the logs they’re sat.  Soon, my fingertips were worked properly down.  The result of this session was smooth, even nails.  The urge to pick was gone. 

     Not all substrates are the same.  A surface that is too soft deposits debris under the nails.  An edge that is too unforgiving can cause discomfort.  I would like to experiment with different materials.  I suspect the right kind of stone would do nicely, perhaps a river rock. 

     The satisfaction of a good scratch is analogous to stretching a stiff muscle.  Not only is the act of scratching satisfactory, but also receiving.  Just the thought of a head scratch raises bumps on my skin.

     I suppose many will scoff or blanch at my proposition… to which I say: be whimsical.  Try new things.  Do what feels right.  What harm could come?

     And while you’re out caressing trees, I highly recommend pine needles for cleansing hands.  Grab a bunch of pine straw and rub it over your dirty paws; it will take soil clean off.  There is the added benefit of the resinous aroma being caught in your palms.  Give it a go.

Thank you, everyone, for entertaining my weirdness.

Really, though, isn’t is stranger still we call small pictures “thumbnails”?