Wonders of the World

By Kimberly Hicken

            The other day, I was on my way out to the car when a small movement on the ground caught my eye. It was a slug slowly making its way across our driveway. I knelt down to get a closer look. Its movement was painfully slow, but then I noticed its little feelers coming out of the top of its head. I picked up a small leaf and touched one of the feelers. It quickly pulled the feeler into its head, then slowly extended it back out. Fascinated, I touched the feeler on the other side. The same thing happened. I put the leaf in front of the slug like a giant wall. The slug’s feelers felt the “wall.” The slug hesitated and then extended the feelers up over the top of the leaf like two tiny periscopes peering over a wall. Then the slug began to climb up the leaf. While I was playing with the slug, my 16-year-old son walked out of the house.

            “What are you doing” he asked. His voice had that tone he gets when he catches me doing something crazy. Apparently kneeling in the driveway, studying the ground, fits in the category of crazy.

            “I’m playing with this slug,” I told him. “Look at its feelers. Watch what happens when I touch one with this leaf.” I showed him how the slug instantly pulled in its feeler. “Isn’t that cool?” I asked him enthusiastically.

            “Yeah, Mom, it’s cool. Now let’s go.” He hurried to the car. I was supposed to be giving him a ride to his girlfriend’s house. I admit I was a little disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm, but apparently his girlfriend is more interesting than a slug. 😊

          Still, when girlfriends and boyfriends aren’t part of the equation, I’ve noticed that my kids still have a love for nature and the world around us. For instance, my 15-year-old daughter will catch the first toads of spring and bring them into the house to show me. Even though my kids are teenagers, they still enjoy going for a walk with me. They get excited by the first flowers of spring, the crunchy leaves of fall, the length of an icicle, or the beauty of a spider’s web.

How It Started:

            I can’t take all the credit for their enthusiasm, but I like to think that I had a hand in keeping it cultivated. Have you ever gone on a walk with a toddler? Everything is new and exciting for them. They can watch the progress of an ant carrying another insect for twenty minutes. In fact, when something catches their interest, their attention span far exceeds that of an adult. They are excited about butterflies, overjoyed with dandelions, and ecstatic when they see a beetle. Eventually, this enthusiasm will wear off unless we help keep it alive. But how do we do that? The answer is simple. We need to share their enthusiasm.

            When my children were little, and they stopped to watch a butterfly sitting on a flower, I would remind myself that the walk was for them. This kept me from hurrying them on. After all, a walk should be about getting outside, not about arriving at a destination. I would pause to enjoy the butterfly with them. I would point out the colors of the wings. I would also tell them fascinating facts. “Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet?” I would ask. “How would you like to taste things with your feet?” It’s a fascinating concept when you think about it.

            In the spring, there is a section of a walking path that has the dens of spiders. If you take a stick and gently shake the web at the opening of the den, the spider will stick its head out looking for prey. This has been a favorite pastime of ours for years. Other times, we will stop and admire an intricate spider’s web. “Did you know that the spider’s web is sticky?” I’ll say to them. “An insect will fly into the web and get stuck. Then the spider will come and quickly wrap up the insect in more of its web. Then it will suck out the blood of the insect. That’s how spiders eat.”

            If you pay attention, you will see ants carrying items bigger than themselves. “Did you know that ants are stronger than humans?” I used to ask my children. “A human could never carry something that was that much bigger than us.” (This also gave me the opportunity to explain about proportions.)

            After a hard rainstorm, the worms would sometimes come out of the ground and lay on the sidewalks. “Did you know that the worms came out of the ground so they wouldn’t drown?” I would ask my kids. “But if they don’t get back into the ground before the sun gets hot, they will die.”

            I’m afraid of bees, but I still find them fascinating. “Did you know that bees collect the nectar in the flowers and turn it into honey?” I would ask my kids as we watched a bee land on a flower. “If you get stung by a honey bee, the bee will die. Be careful not to upset the bee. You don’t want to be stung, and we don’t want the bee to die because we like honey.”

Continuing the Lessons:

            These and other lessons were part of our everyday walks. I wanted my kids to learn to appreciate nature and to come to love and respect our world. As they got older, the walks became less frequent, but the lessons still continued.

            “You’ll never guess what I heard today on my morning run!” I said one morning at breakfast. “I heard birds chirping! I think spring is finally here.”

            Sometimes, the lessons come from television. It’s not unusual for us to watch nature shows on TV. They are fascinating, and we learn something. “I didn’t know that penguins mated for life,” I commented after one such show. We discuss what we learn. I think it makes the lessons more interesting and helps with the appreciation of our world.

            Other times, I will point out interesting facts that I have picked up along the way. “Did you know that a honey bee only produces about a teaspoon of honey in its lifetime?” I announced at dinner one night. “That’s not very much, especially when you consider all the honey people eat.”

            “There are more bees than people,” my daughter pointed out. “And that’s a lot of honey for such a tiny insect.”

Teaching Respect:

            Along with appreciation, I like to teach respect for our world. My kids know that if I am out hiking, and I see a snake, I’m not going to kill that snake. I’m in the snake’s territory. It’s like I’m visiting the snake’s house. They know that I respect snakes and their right to live in the wild. In fact, I encourage them to leave any creature we see alone, whether it’s an insect, a reptile, or a mammal.

            When we have garbage, either in the car or on a hike, I teach my kids to dispose of their trash properly. I tell them of how life was in the 70s when I was growing up. “Back then, there was tons of garbage on both sides of the road. It was awful. Then they started teaching us not to throw our trash on the ground. It’s a lot better now than it was.” I’ll tell them. “Besides, I hate it when I’m on a hike, trying to enjoy the beauty of nature and see someone’s candy wrapper or soda can. It spoils the scenery.”

Sometimes They Teach Me:

            Early one morning (around 2:00 am), I woke to the sound of my daughter’s voice. “Mom, mom,” she whispered. “It’s snowing. Come and go for a walk with me.” Now, going for a walk in the snow at two in the morning may not sound like fun, but don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. There’s something unusually beautiful about fresh snow in the middle of the night that needs to be experienced at least once. We bundled up and walked through the snow. “Did you know that no two snowflakes are alike?” said my daughter. “That’s hard to believe, but it’s true.”

            Another time, my 18-year-old son grabbed my hand and pulled me off the couch. “You have to see this!” he said. “Hurry!” I went outside with him. He held my hand to steady me so that I could stand on my tippy toes and peek inside our windchimes. There was a tiny nest with a hummingbird egg inside. “Can you imagine building a nest inside windchimes?” he asked me quietly. We stepped away from the nest so that the mother bird would feel free to return. “Did you know that hummingbirds are actually kind of mean? They will fight other hummingbirds for access to feeders,” he told me. “I think we should put up some more hummingbird feeders so that we don’t have any fights.”

Why It’s Worth It:

            I believe that how we treat our world transfers into how we treat other people. If a child can learn to be gentle to a toad, I think it will be easier for him to be kind to playmates, siblings, and eventually a spouse and children.

            If we teach our kids to be respectful to the earth and to care for it, I think they will learn to be respectful to belongings: both theirs and other people’s. If they respect animal life, they will respect human life. If they care about the world around them, they will also care about the people around them. I’m not saying that this is an absolute rule. Obviously, exceptions exist. However, I think that teaching an appreciation and love for the world around us is a good first step.

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