By JASON HAWKINS

Special to The Herald-Sun

By nature, I am a collector of things.

There are items that I retain from season to season and things I replace from year to year. And there are things I'll never replace or trade, ever.

One of those things is my pocket knife.

When I think of a knife, I think of a tool and a resource. I do not think of a weapon or think of protection.

My knife is an extension of my fingers and mind, and it doesn't just cut.

I have owned many knives and have lost many good knives, too. Ironically, the knives that I have kept the longest are those that were cheapest.

Many of you carry knives. I forgot mine two weeks ago and asked a man nearby if he had one, and he lectured me about why I should never be without a knife.

"If my pants are on, I have a knife," he said.

For hunters and anglers, a knife is akin to toting a rod or shouldering a firearm. A knife is needed to prepare game or fish for the table, and there are other uses, too.

Knives are used to cut tangled line, cut dangling threads, slice a tomato, cut into an apple or to whittle a stick into something sharp. The uses for a knife are virtually infinite.

I have been given knives by a father, grandfather, uncles and friends.

Someone I knew gave me a knife when I entered college, and I was appreciative. This knife had other tools and a leather pouch to affix to my belt. I used the knife off and on when I would find it.

Yet when this person passed, I remembered the knife. The knife took on a different meaning then, and now I can place my fingers around the leather pouch and think about the knife and my friend.

When I was younger, I always kept a knife in my pocket. I remember going to school, and all of the boys had pocket knives because they farmed, fished or hunted.

Knives are banned at schools, now. Knives also are banned on planes and other places with a metal detector.

I have a theory about apples and our society -- when I get a bag of apples, I think about how one rotten apple messed up the other 15 and I think about the interpretation that all people with knives are bad or mean.

Yet for a hunter or angler, a knife is necessary.

A few years ago, I took my first turkey on a sunny April morning, and I remember preparing the bird for the freezer and how a new knife made the job easy. I keep this knife on a shelf in my office, and I am reminded of that day.

I remember a trip with friends last year and the knives we used. We caught a cooler full of dolphin and wahoo, and there were fish to clean late in the day. For some in the group, it was a first meeting and the first opportunity to clean fish. I think about how some of us struggled with the filet work and boning meat and how the knives were sharp and yet our technique was dull.

This year, we'll return with the same knives -- they will be sharp and hopefully our technique will be sharper this time. Most important, our friendships will be sharper and this is a good thing.

Then there is the act of whittling. There is an image I have of two men sitting by a country store, sipping lemonade and watching cars pass as they talk while whittling on a stick.

I have been known to whittle, as well, at the end of a day or around lunch. Never does this act end with a productive implement, and I would not have survived centuries ago if my life depended upon whittling. My strokes are careless, and in a matter of minutes, I can gnaw a two-foot stick into a two-inch nub -- this is how I whittle.

But I think a lot during these times. I think about things I collect, things I say or write about, and I think about the stick and knife in hand.

I have found that there are good knives for whittling and there are better knives for whittling, and my current knife is perfect. It is like one my grandfather kept, simple with two blades though he did lots with this knife.

He cut apples and walnuts. He cut from the garden and bales of hay, and sometimes he would cut his finger, too.

Though he didn't fish but hunted when he was younger, I learned that keeping a pocket knife is a good thing and I learned to whittle.

In my life and in my pursuits outdoors, I have lost and found knives and broken the handles or blades of several.

I once tried to break the tip of a knife given to me by a friend. There is a saying that I once read that goes: When a friend gives you a knife, the recipient should break the tip. I tried this, though I thought it was silly.

Soon I will tie a knot to a hook and will need to trim extra line. Soon I will catch a fish, and I will need to trim a fillet. Soon a string will need cutting or a piece of thread will dangle, a screw will need tightening, a stick will need to be whittled and there will be a bag to be opened.

And, hopefully, there will be a turkey that will cause me to dust off a knife and think back to a first bird and the first time I used this gift.

I will place my hand on the leather case and think about what is inside.

Granted, there is a knife in the pouch. Yet beyond the handle, the blades and the tools of this knife, there is so much more.

On this knife, the tip is not broken. And from this knife, my memory remains sharp.

Enjoy your time outdoors.

You may contact Jason Hawkins at hawkinsoutdoors@msn.com.