If you want a scapegoat, blame seventh grade science.
It was the rainforest unit, really. Of course, you could blame the NSS butterfly guide as well. It’s equally responsible.
Or Project Noah.
Or the camera I got for my tenth birthday.
Or the fact that the condominium I live in is stuffed to bursting with nature.
And you could go on and on like that. The world is filled with goats, scape and sheep alike.
I would blame wonder, though. I would blame discovery. I would blame a teenager finding a world full of grey had some green hiding in it, and that in that green was hiding red and yellow and blue and all the colors of nature.
I would blame realising the importance of biodiversity. Of what we have to protect. To document.
And, ultimately, save from our own foolishness.
So, whoever you choose to blame, the end-product is an amateur wildlife photographer, birder, butterflyer (what else should I call it? butterfly-watcher doesn’t roll off the tongue), conservationist, and most importantly, explorer. Basically, me.
You can find me somewhere up a tree the majority of the time. Otherwise, searching my Project Noah account or for someone gesticulating wildly about white-bellied sea eagles to another person looking around wildly for the quickest escape routes could produce similar results.
In the end, the only thing left to blame is me.
