You often see “Christmas in July” store sales. Well, this is my “July in March” writing (four months apart, but only two seasons apart).

When my little family lived in Yanceyville, we frequented two more-urban areas: Danville and Greensboro. In those days, before the existence of Danville’s marvelous Science Center, the Greensboro Natural Science Center (now, just Greensboro Science Center) was a favorite “day vacation” spot for my late wife, Diane, daughter, Rachel, son, Jeremy, and me. Feeling nostalgic, last July, daughter, Rachel and I visited the Greensboro Science Center (hence my title: “July in January”).

Years ago, a huge log of petrified wood from North Carolina’s “Down East” was displayed at the museum’s entrance and housed in brick and glass. It now lies exposed along the museum’s walking trail. But even to the untrained eye, it stands out from other rocks there as “something special!” Back in nature again, it appears none the worse for wear; since for most of its multiple millions of years of “petrified life,” it “felt” the heat, cold, rain, and snow.

Along that walk-trail we met a menacing reptilian gaze, along with gaped mouth and curved, sharp teeth! But it was only a dinosaur model. Years ago, in the museum lobby, its “open-mouthed greeting” welcomed one and all.

Both petrified log and dinosaur were “alive” again, just like our memories of visiting the museum years ago.

The gift shop’s plush animals were cute, among them, representations of the museum’s pink flamingos and penguins. I spied rocks and fossils there and thought back to my youth, happy with a rock or fossil in my pocket, kind of like a “support rock.”

There is a “living diorama” of penguins, rock, and water. Each penguin has a wrist (flipper)-attached nametag. About half of them stand “at attention” on a rocky outcrop, while the other half takes a swim. While we were there, they stayed in place, making me wonder if at some point later, a “shift change” occurs.

As we watched from a bench, one penguin named Dwight (yes, after “Dwight” from The Office) stared at us and vigorously flapped in the water. I believe if he could have burst through the barrier, he would have wound up at our feet, and possibly in the lap of either of us.

Dwight’s “straight-on” flapping and staring reminded me of those movie scenes just after Dracula has turned into a flapping bat (and, like Dracula, the penguin is also “formally” dressed).

For some years, a two-headed turtle from Badin Lake resided at the Greensboro Science Center. A docent said it had passed. She actually said “died ” but I say “passed,” for I feel that all the attention he received, and the wonderment he gave, made him worthy of honorary “soul hood!”

The great aquarium’s denizens swam round-and-round, reminding me of the moving scenery of a vaudeville show (except it was they who were moving, not the scenery).

One otter in the otter habitat continually scratched its back on a log, but a docent said: “It’s normal.” A staff member later corroborated the unpaid docent. Science museum docents evidently know their subject better than some hardware-store workers do theirs. When we left that room, the otter was moving about, “itch less!”

We bought snacks there for lunch, sitting outside and having interaction with local wildlife (finches and starlings love pieces of buttered bagel).

Each fossil in the “fossil room” is displayed inside an Indiana Jones-style wooden crate raised up on one side to reveal the fossil, along with a small holographic man sliding down a rope, “spieling” the fossil’s particulars (of course, he wears a leather jacket and a fedora along with a curled-up whip, I think).

When I pined for the “traditional” form (glass cases) of fossil display, Rachel reminded me of the dedication of funding and ideas in an effort to reach out and grab the attention of today’s youth (as is also the case with our own Danville Science Center). I guess I’m just an “old kid,” having grown up when rocks and fossils in glass cases were kind of calm and “reassuring” during the excitement and fear of all that “other science stuff” involved in “Duck and Cover!”

While seated there on crates designed as seating, Rachel and I took in the “storeroom” aspect of the space’s design, floor, walls, rafters, and ceiling, all of wood. I told her how attention-grabbing it would be for that same Indiana Jones-styled holographic explorer to appear, fully life-sized, and slid down from the ceiling on his rope right there in front of us. Rachel thought that might be too intense for the kids. And I thought it might be a little too intense for adults, as well.

Borrowing a quote from Wallace and Gromit, Rachel later referred to that day of our Greensboro Science Center trip as “A Grand Day Out!” And it was. Just like that dinosaur on the trail, nostalgia pleasantly caught up with us while we crafted memories for “future nostalgia”, all on that “Grand Day Out!”