the first month we moved into our new digs here in the country, i took a composting class hosted by an environmental group in allegheny county where we were given a brand new composter (which is serving us well...we've been composting green and brown materials now for 16 months and it's only 1/3 of the way full). the class took place at the rachel carson homestead which was the original home of who is known as the pioneer of the environmental movement, rachel carson.
i found out that she wrote a book called silent spring in the 1960s which is known as an attack on the newly developed insecticides and other chemicals for use in farming and suburban gardens.
then i had a baby and forgot all about her. until just last week when i came across an episode on our local PBS station of "On Q" that focused a bit on rachel and her local homestead. i found that she wrote more than just one book, so i requested a bunch of her books at the library last week and brought them home just yesterday. Silent Spring is one of the books i requested and can't wait to read, but one that i'm totally stuck on and in love with and now want to buy for all my friends who are parents of young ones is the sense of wonder. it's a remake of an old pamphlet that she wrote just before her death. the copy that i have includes stunning nature photos by nick kelsh among the words of her original pamphlet.
one of my favorite quotes:
we have let [my nephew] share our enjoyment of things people ordinarily deny children because they are inconvenient, interfering with bedtime, or involving wet clothing that has to be changed or mud that has to be cleaned off the rug. we have let him join us in the dark living room before the big picture window to watch the full moon riding lower and lower toward the far shore of the bay.... i think we have felt that the memory of such a scene, photographed year after year by a child's mind, would mean more to him in manhood than the sleep he was losing.
i think i like that one so much because she has described who i am NOT...but who i want to become for the sake of my kids. when the fireflies were out in june and july, rowan and sawyer couldn't wait to chase them. that usually meant it was close to dark, which was closer to 8:30 or 9:00 - well past their bedtime. initially i was concerened about them being overtired, but then i realized that you're only their age once. and their minds are beginning to retain memories (i have memories from when i was three, so i know at least rowan will remember these times).
my favorite memories of our mini-vacation to lake erie this summer was playing on the beach at sunset. normally, i'd do my best to keep adam out of the water since he was in clothes and not a bathing suit, but it was at least 45 minutes until sunset and he wasn't happy unless he was at least ankle-deep in the water. so he splashed around, got completely drenched, and loved every minute of it.
i am becoming less tightly wound as a parent watching my kids take it all in for the first, second, and third times; seeing the wide sky over a big lake, or hearing a rain storm fall so hard it's hard to talk over its din.
reading this book comes at a time in my life as a parent when i am realizing how amazing the outside world is to a young child. all summer i've watched adam transfixed on ocean waves, staring up at our hemlock tree blowing back and forth on a windy day, watching rain fall from the sky. this summer, the older two boys have become more independent in their outside play and adam is learning how to navigate the yard, the pine trees, and the outside toys by playing with them. summer is the perfect time to soak it all in, and winter the perfect time to reflect on the outside from the inside warmth of a fireplace. spring and fall are perfect for both.
in the meantime, i'm excited to watch adam see and feel snow for the first time. i can't wait to see what next summer brings to us. i promise to let them all stay up a bit later, get a bit wetter and messier and enjoy every minute of it.