Between searching and finding is there's usually seeing. Occasionally also listening. For a Stargardtien it's usually knowing. And often feeling one's way.

 A good example of the issues with searching is in the kitchen. In mine, everything has its place. I think I could operate it in complete darkness. If I do not find the paring knife at its place, I usually have to scour all other possibilities systematically to find it. If it lies with its black handle on the dark stove, only feeling one's way helps. As a result, I'm reluctant to let my guests help clean up the kitchen. Afterwards, many things are no longer at their places and I need another hour re-arrange the kitchen so that I find all my tools. As a result of this result, I have difficulties with helping out in other kitchens. On the one hand, because I know how annoying it is not to find things in their usual places. And on the other hand, because I spend a long time to find out where all the things belong. The plates are still relatively easy to locate, with glasses and cups I have to search more closely. Therefore, I prefer volunteering for the sink. Here it's easy: the dirty things enter on one side, the washed ones exit on the other.

Sometimes it also happens that I can not find the missing object despite several systematic searches. I then list it under "potentially lost", knowing that sometime later it might still turn up somewhere.  As the little bag with my adapters for the laptop: Shortly after my arrival I needed it - and it was not there anymore. I knew I still had it a the airport. I searched my hotel room several times, even on my knees, wondering how I could do such a mess with my few things in such a short time. Finally, I concluded that I must have lost it at the airport. While checking out - I was in the middle of paying my bill - someone from the room service hurried in and brought me my adapter pouch. Apparently, I walked - and crawled - right past it during the whole week of my stay.

The searching and finding become somewhat more painful when I am walking with my little niece in the woods during wild strawberry season. The little girl is enjoying every discovery of a single berry as much as the berry itself. And I fell sorry that I can not help her. Upright I can't see the floor clearly enough and crawling I smash them half of the times. Well, at least I can show her on which tree the squirrel is, as I can hear the scratching of its claws on the bark. But I can't spot it: brown on brown.