Every morning, we nod to each other. Every morning. Rain or shine. In the winter, we both have our earflap hats, baggy sweats, puffy parkas, and carefully wrapped scarves bundled around us to ward off the windy cold and now that the weather is improving, our unkempt just-out-of-bed hair is exposed and blowing in the wind as we nod and smile at each other. I have learned there is a community of trail users, a camaraderie almost, and when you pass the “regulars”, there’s an unspoken bond that says, “That’s right. We are always here, together. I notice you here and you notice me. And when I miss a day, you notice you didn’t see me.” It feels good. I love this community. There’s the old smiling gentleman that rides his cruiser bike up and down the trail, back and forth, in the same 2-mile stretch for at least an hour, sometimes two hours, every morning. There’s the tall, middle-aged man who exclaimed aloud, “I wondered where you’d gone!” after my 8:00-9:00 absence because I had an early morning class that required me to walk earlier.Last night, I attended a guest lecture on campus by Joan Jacobs Brumberg about the way women’s perceptions of themselves have changed over the past couple hundred years and the cultural shift from valuing “good works” to a culture that now primarily places value on “good looks”. A very interesting lecture. But, that’s another story.
Anyhow, while I was waiting for the lecture to begin, I noticed a woman filing in with the crowd and noted she looked really familiar but couldn’t place her. I sat there for a moment stealing glances at her and noticed her doing the same to me. Clearly, we knew each other. And then it dawned on me—she’s the woman from the trail! After the lecture, as she walked by I stopped her and said, “Hi, you don’t know me, but I think I see you every morning on the bike trail.” And she said, “THAT’S who you are!”
And the whole thing made me chuckle. If she had walked in with her blue sweatpants and binoculars hanging around her neck, I would have recognized her instantly and perhaps if she had seen me sitting there in my grubby navy blue sweatshirt and black warmup pants and my uncombed hair there would have been no question of my identity.
Come to find out, her name is Barbara Dibernard and she is a well-known, accomplished English Professor here at UNL. She has published many books on women’s studies, is an expert in Gay and Lesbian literature, Literature and Disabilities and she is an award-winning professor for excellent teaching. I found out she is an avid birdwatcher (hence the binoculars she wears every morning) and has carried out missions to help document and save endangered bird species, including the Laysan Albatross.
And I found it thrilling to find out who she was. It made me consider the other people I pass, not just on the trail, but everyday. I am a believer that everyone has not just a story to tell, but an interesting story to tell. And this morning, at about 7:30 a.m., I passed her again and she waved and smiled, and I waved and smiled back and thought, “There goes Barbara Dibernard, professor extraordinaire and my trail friend.”
Evidence #4.
Or The Burrow from Harry Potter—it just sounds like a busy, cozy, homey place to be.
11. What is a book that you’ve read more than once?
14. What is a book that made you cry? 
