depth and vision
Greta is interesting about floors. At any transition of floor surfaces she stops. In a store, she'll walk on the carpet right up to the hard floor, and stop at the edge, looking down; or she'll walk on the hard floor and stop at the edge of the carpet.
When we're on a very glossy polished floor, she'll often be walking along and then stop right where she is, hands out, legs a bit bent, in that stance of self-protective balance against vertigo, completely stranded till you go help her along. We figured out that she sees the reflections of lights in the polish and it spooks her with its sense of depth. It's like when you're taking a picture and there's a window there, and the camera focuses on what's being reflected rather than on the window.
I got a nice window myself onto Greta's thought process yesterday, when we were walking through the neighborhood. She went down the slope of a driveway to where it hit the street, and stopped, as she does. Then, she methodically turned around, knelt down, and began to send her feet out to the street surface, in exactly the same way she now descends stairsteps.
It turns out that she suspects every change in texture or color in the floor might signal a change in depth. (After attending a few classes at the School of Hard Knocks, sending her tumbling over an unexpected drop, you can't blame her.) How fascinating it would be to somehow enter her brain, her developing comprehension, to really see the world as she sees it, and not just that but perceive the world as she perceives it.
When we're on a very glossy polished floor, she'll often be walking along and then stop right where she is, hands out, legs a bit bent, in that stance of self-protective balance against vertigo, completely stranded till you go help her along. We figured out that she sees the reflections of lights in the polish and it spooks her with its sense of depth. It's like when you're taking a picture and there's a window there, and the camera focuses on what's being reflected rather than on the window.
I got a nice window myself onto Greta's thought process yesterday, when we were walking through the neighborhood. She went down the slope of a driveway to where it hit the street, and stopped, as she does. Then, she methodically turned around, knelt down, and began to send her feet out to the street surface, in exactly the same way she now descends stairsteps.
It turns out that she suspects every change in texture or color in the floor might signal a change in depth. (After attending a few classes at the School of Hard Knocks, sending her tumbling over an unexpected drop, you can't blame her.) How fascinating it would be to somehow enter her brain, her developing comprehension, to really see the world as she sees it, and not just that but perceive the world as she perceives it.
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