Wednesday, July 18, 2007, 22:26
Call of the Wild
A while back on the way home from an evening meeting I was covering for the newspaper, I heard an interesting segment on public radio.
Researchers have now realized that children are better off being allowed to play outside in their backyards without adult supervision so that they can learn to explore the natural world around them.
The really fascinating part is that children who are allowed to explore the natural world develop a better sense of danger and risk management. They are also better able to handle the stressors of daily life, researchers say. Plus, they develop a sense of place.
Human beings are genetically coded, the speaker on public radio said, to be outside and to be in contact with nature. During more than 99 percent of human existence, people have spent a great deal of time outside moving around in nature. Human beings are not genetically coded to sit inside in front of a computer or a television, he said.
And in addition to learning risk management skills and being better able to cope with stress, developing a sense of place has far-reaching implications for our environment, the speaker said. When people develop a sense of place, they have more of a desire to take care of that place.
The disconcerting thing about the research, however, is that if children do not have these experiences outside in nature by the time they are 12 years old, it is too late. They do not learn how to assess danger very well and they do not develop a sense of place and a sense of being attached to place and they are not as able to cope with stress.
Dire consequences
All of this, of course, set me to thinking. And what I concluded is — it does not bode well for the human race.
Is this why, then, that so many drivers take terrible, stupid risks while they are driving, like passing a line of four cars going up a hill on a double yellow line? Because they did not play outside by themselves when they were children and learn to assess danger?
Is this why so many of our younger people are turning to alcohol and drugs and don't have the vaguest idea that if they go to a "pharming party" where they mix prescription drugs stolen from their parents and other adults that it could -- in all reality -- kill them? Because they did not play outside when they were small children and learn to assess danger?
Is this why, as a society, we have allowed big business to run the show in the name of the almighty dollar and who cares what happens to the American people -- just as long as they keep funding those large profit margins? Because too many of us did not play outside as children and learn to assess the danger?
As the speaker on public radio concluded -- we have become too fearful and too careful of protecting our children. We protect them and want to keep them inside where they are safe and nothing can happen to them.
Not so safe
Unfortunately, when children are kept inside and are on the computer exploring the World Wide Web, they could connect with an Internet predator or fall prey to some other scam or scheme.
And when they are inside, mesmerized by a video or a television show, the synapses in their brains are atrophying and they are losing the ability to think with every minute they spend in front of the screen.
And when they are inside, they are not moving around and are not burning calories, but instead, are eating food that is not good for them and are becoming overweight to the point where children today will have a shorter life expectancy than their parents.
Is this crazy or what?
People are so fearful of protecting their children that they are putting them in grave danger.
Is this because some parents did not spend enough time outside as children and did not learn to assess danger? Are they incapable of understanding that the dangers of atrophied brain synapses and lack of exercise and too many calories and a predator waiting online are far more real than imagined dangers than could be encountered in the backyard?
Perhaps.
More to fear
The heightened sense of fearfulness, in my opinion, could also be related to the amount of advertising with which we are bombarded every single day.
Think about it.
All advertising is geared toward making the audience fearful about something -- not having white enough teeth, not having clean enough clothes, not making the right investment, not spending enough on Christmas, not driving the "right" car.
Holy Hannah.
We are not sending children outside to play so they are not learning how to assess danger, and then we are putting them in a position where they are bombarded by thousands of advertising images every day that make them fearful.
People are frightened out of their wits, but they don't know what they are frightened of, and they can't even tell if there really *is* something that they should be afraid of.
Gone for good
The long and short of it is -- I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to grow up on a small family farm where my backyard turned out to be several square miles.
Nowadays, however, far fewer children will have that opportunity because most of our small family farms are gone.
The time when life was slower and the world was less congested and people had time to think and to breathe and to focus on nature and the trees and the wildflowers and the wild places and could learn to focus on what is important and could learn to have some common sense are gone as well.
And I think we are all going to suffer for it.
LeAnn R. Ralph
P.S. If you would like to comment on this topic, send your comments to me and I will post them in my blog.
The link for my e-mail address is at the bottom left side of this page.
I'm looking forward to hearing from you. . .
Monday, July 16, 2007, 06:07
Mixed Berries
One evening last week, Randy and I managed to carve out a half an hour to go for a walk up the dirt road. And while we were walking, we noticed a patch of wild red raspberries that were ripe.
"We'd better check the other patch under the powerline, too," I said.
"Right," Randy said.
Wild red raspberries are my husband's favorite.
The patch under the powerline is just around the corner from the house. When Friday evening arrived, and I was caught up with newspaper work and there were no more meetings to go to, I suggested we go picking raspberries.
And, oh, it was a glorious evening. Cool. Low humidity. Sunny. A blue sky. And best of all, no mosquitoes to speak of.
We took Charlie with us -- because he likes to pick berries and eat them too -- and made our way around the corner.
And sure enough, the patches of raspberries on the powerline hill were ripe.
Sweet fern
As we picked raspberries, I could smell the sweet, spicy scent of sweet fern. The sweet fern on the powerline hill is like sweet fern on steroids. The sweet fern on the powerline hill is nearly waist high on me.They are more like small bushes rather than the low plants that grow at the edge of our yard. I suppose the soil is better on the powerline hill. The sweet fern has shale to grow in at the edge of the yard.
I could also smell the lemony scent of the wild lavender bergamot growing amongst the raspberry bushes. A domesticated version of the wild lavender bergamot is known as bee balm. The feathery-looking purple flowers added a splash of color to the green of the hillside.
As we picked, I found a couple of spots among the raspberries that were completely flattened out, as if something large had sat down among the raspberries. A bear, perhaps.
The raspberries had some berries on them, but not as many as they've had in years past. Too dry, I suppose.
Blackberries too
And then as we ventured farther up the hill, we began to find brambles of low-bush blackberries that were ripe. Considering how dry it has been, the blackberries were fairly plump. So we put the blackberries in with the raspberries.
"We'll have mixed berry jam," I said to Randy.
When we had picked all of the berries we could find, we were nearly half way up the powerline hill. The view from the top of the hill is spectacular. You can see for miles and miles from up there. We figured since we were that close, we might as well climb to the top.
In the meantime, Charlie was enjoying himself immensely. When he had picked what he wanted of the raspberries, he sniffed around and followed his nose. I always tell Charlie he can pick the berries close to the ground, and I will pick the berries that are higher up.
Lupine
When we reached the top of the hill, the view was as spectacular as I remembered it. Green trees and valleys stretching out for as far as you can see. Along the way to the top, we saw lupine that had gone to seed, too -- long, dark brown seed pods contrasting with the green leaves. The wild lupine is the habitat of the endangered Karner Blue butterfly. We see lots of Karner Blues around. And that's why. Because the wild lupine grows here, too.
On our way down the powerline hill, we cut through the woods to get our big pines. I haven't walked that way in a long, long time. I usually avoid that area in the spring because it is a good place to pick up deer ticks. Now that it is warmer, the deer ticks are not as active. They will be active again in October and November, unfortunately.
Jam
By the time we got back to the house, we had about three quarts of wild red raspberries mixed with blackberries. Enough, I thought, to make two batches of jam.
And I was right! I did have enough for two batches. Sunday evening, I made my first two batches of jam for the year. Mixed berry jam.
I don't know what else we will find this year for jam and jelly, seeing as it's so dry. I've seen a few chokecherries starting to ripen. And we know where there are several chokecherry trees with fruit on them. So chokecherry will probably be my next adventure in making jelly.
The mixed berry jam, by the way, turned out very well. And whenever I open a jar of it next winter, I will think back to that glorious, cool, sunny evening on the powerline hill.
Back Again
Sometimes I think the old mother cat is trying to give me a nervous breakdown.
The kittens are gone. Then they're back. Then they're gone. Then back.
They are back right now.
It is a curious thing, too. The old mother cat takes them out and leaves them out in the woods for days when it is hot and sweltering. But on a day like it was Saturday, with a high temperature in the mid-70s, puffy white clouds and a cool breeze, she stays in the barn with them.
The kittens spent the day Saturday and Sunday lounging on the hay, napping and eating when they felt hungry.
Another curious thing is that once the mother cat starts taking the kittens out for their Wilderness Training Camping Trips, the kittens become much more confident of themselves. Sometimes a little *too* confident because now they like to play on Kajun's side of the barn.
Like I always tell the kittens, "Kajun has big feet. And you don't."
The horse wouldn't step on them on purpose, I know, because other years I have watched him be very careful not to step on kittens.
But still -- Kajun has big feet. And the kittens don't.
LeAnn R. Ralph