I had lost this knife at the end of the summer, while chasing JuJu the donkey (back before we learned to walk together peacefully without me pulling the lead rope.) I lost it in what could be considered a needle in a hay stack... a green handled knife in an endless pasture, so big I could just vaguely re-trace the steps where I had run.
The knife was sentimental to me, and sentimental to the person who gave it to me... plus I had just had it professionally sharpened by the bearded man who taught spoon carving classes (link here!) It was so sharp I hardly had to touch the tip to anything and it would slice it open.
So when my neighbor pulled up today and opened the glove compartment saying "I have something for you"... i was ecstatic, full circle, aligned stars, lucky excited! He told me it had been run over by a bulldozer, but he found it anyway because he was using a metal detector.
He had the blade wrapped in a paper towel and told me sweetly "Be careful, that knife is sharp."
My primitivist, rewilder, survivalist, nature buddies out there will understand how cool this reunion is, a knife is the tool we all carry all the time. Sometimes accidently on our belts in public places (oops, sorry thrift store, sorry grocery, sorry remote corner store, i forget!)
YAY, to a happy ending. :))