Buried deep among my scattering of inaccessible childhood memories are images of peach pits, carved in the shape of miniature baskets. I am not sure how I know they are peach pits—perhaps that knowledge is buried even deeper than the images themselves. Regardless of why or how I am certain of what was carved to create the little baskets, there is no doubt in my mind about their origins. I imagine peach pits would be quite difficult to carve because they are very hard and their small size probably would challenge even the most accomplished carver. Beyond my recollections of seeing the little carved baskets, I vaguely remember holding them in my hands, fascinated that something so common and mundane—and so small—could have been transformed into what seemed like such tiny toys. A cursory search on the internet this morning suggested carving fruit pits originated as Chinese folk art, a now declining form of artistic expression. My fragmented memories sparked my curiosity about who carved the ones I recall from my childhood. I doubt I will ever be able to satisfy that curiosity. But I may explore what else I can learn about them, anyway.
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Eidetic memory—the ability (typically found only in young children) to at least briefly recall an image from memory with great precision—differs from photographic memory. Photographic memory is said to be the ability to recall pages of text or numbers, or similar, in great detail. While eidetic memory apparently is recognized as a “real thing,” literature suggests there is no reliable evidence that photographic memory really exists. I do not know whether to accept the skepticism about photographic memory. I have come across a number of claims that some people on the autism spectrum have what amounts to photographic memory. I do not understand why photographic memory is subject to strong skepticism if, indeed, so many people ostensibly possess it. On the other hand, the “reality” of photographic memory would be sufficiently exciting that the idea might prompt false claims about it. I know this: I have neither eidetic nor photographic memory.
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Leaves. Outside, everywhere I look, leaves whirl through the air. Fall has fallen.
